after Charlie Haden’s, “First Song”
No one remembers the first song
sung to them in mother’s whisper.
The words, merely notes to soothe
the savage beast at her breast.
Melody and milk can conjure
hypnosis, relaxed willingness
to accept natural comfort.
External vibrations first heard
in initial home, her body’s
warm womb echo chamber
where we treaded bass lines
tethered to the rhythms of her heart.
Published in Open Arts Forum on .
Jordan Trethewey is the poet laureate of Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada. He has published work with many small online and print publications internationally, and his work has been translated in Vietnamese, Farsi, and French. He would be bewildered to know you are reading this right now, but would also be secretly pleased. :)
Find more of his work on his work here: jordantretheweywriter.wordpress.com
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