One has to bear

The lingering of the music

As a shoal

Which slips, in answer to amodulating

Formal shape,

Expandsin flits, inbundles

In tendencies its shapesmove, always weaving

And yet remains, contains, itself enough

Repletesufficient frame

Sustainedmaintaining.

Each ocean surge runs tensile sensual rivulets

Outriding,

Tied to one side, then coming in, gliding,to greet

A plaining main theme

As if motifs were curving like anagile fish,

Then reined in

And curbed, made to subserve by agency

Send plaintive listenings

His music swims, distends, reforms, has valency

It lives, its figures modulate, are ever going under

And then above,

As qualitative quantities;their shiny briny scales

Will switch and rub

Disturbance on a fluid medium

In long and wheeling song an ocean swells

Upheaving

Calls out the haunted ghosts inthings,

Impales richsupersensual meaning.

A pilgrimage of sound is absorbed, one is not so much

Observing

In asilent listening chair; enveloping, immersing.

As uponone rolls concentric folds, in sweeping washes,

And all that’s mourned perennially becomes too much

Elgar, a puissant semblancer, woe-deep hiscares;

He tears, with smooth profusion,clean throughdelicate

Scarsburied, left behind

A counterpane’s ephemeral veil of tears

Cuts sweetly through, into long-hidden,

Long forbidden roots,

Abrasions;

Their store one’s aide memoir tosomethings opposite

And bittersweet occasions