a tuning fork in an ambrotype...
and there he sits
the chemical reactions to the glass, as if
the sound from his tuning fork - so still
and present upon his thigh -
his hand perhaps
resting upon some scientific equation,
or the words towards some
his index finger touching a first word of acoustic revelation
or the last word in a sequence
revealing a magic.
his notes rest upon a book closed,
while an acidic chemical rainbow
hovers just above his head - and ears -
like a sheet lost to the wind.
two black scars like snakes fallen from trees,
parenthesis or cupped hands
as he becomes a voice.
his chest glows, his whole body
(a rare ambrotype featuring a man holding a tuning fork, circa 1870, one of my favorite recent acquisitions).