i play on strings of sunlight:
fingertips running through a gentle herbal meadow
as i hold—tenuto, like a fleeting breath
a dying melody, perhaps so
i strike a timbre of timber, a heartbeat of a flame
waltzing in a thyme’s soprano
wandflowers weep in a larghetto wind
whence a ballad whispers from a brazen willow
i pluck the pitch of a single lavender sprig
oscillating with its twilit shadow
for all it accompanies
a lyrical birdsong solo
Written by. Isabel Li
Painting by. Claude Monet
Isabel Li is an 18-year-old writer based in Southern California. As a student in the Claremont Colleges, she is currently pursuing degrees in media studies and music. When she’s not actively brainstorming ideas for her next story or poem, you can find her sculpting, drawing, or indulging in a romantic-era symphony.
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