Let the music play
Martina Rimbaldo
Author: meganrusso
Dancing Master
Dancing Master
RC deWinter
I know you dance in the old way
hardly anyone does anymore –
smooth and graceful,
holding your partner close,
twirling at just the right time.I, a child of the fifties,
vaguely remember the foxtrot,
the polka and swing your partner do-si-do.I might be able to fake the box step
as violins sob out the wavelets
of the Blue Danube, but you
will have to lead, always.And how I long for you to do just that,
extending your hand, lifting me from my chair,
taking to the floor to teach me civilization,
as I, head buried in your neck, inhale
the grace and beauty of a time I never lived.You are the echo of a lost world,
I the shadow trailing in your wake,
stumbling my way backwards
in three-quarter time to meet you
at the place of your beginning.A little love poem on a little love poem
A little love poem on a little love poem
— for Olivia
N.D. Erwin
brilliant
Brilliant soul de la sol
Mi corazón late
My heart latte
My heart beats
To think about you as food, my heart is beating.Set the table with those red peppers and a smoke
beside a little love poem
My heart is beating,
My heart is singing again.
Let’s eat.Bittersweet Symphony
Bittersweet Symphony
Megha Sood
“Each day we draft a new movement in our symphony of life; what melody will you compose today?”
— Ken PoirotLife is a bittersweet symphony
played from the start to end
weaving the moments in between
that you are roped in
weaved in the mesh:
of the joy and the sad moments,
you change into a million faces
till you are turned into dust and fade inLife is a bittersweet symphony
where the verses always don’t carry a meaning
and the chords always
don’t turn into a melody
strumming through the
pain and happiness
as you play along with life
you pick and choose your chord carefully
but who knows whether the choice is poor or wiseLife is a bittersweet symphony
and you just playing your part
in the whole orchestra
the percussion;
those bittersweet moments
/to which your old heart sways/
and it plays a riff on your soul
a long-lasting impression which stays.Letter From the Editor – melody
Dear Reader,
As we approach the halfway point of 2020, we never would have imagined the circumstances that would surround issue no. VI, melody, or that we’d be postponing the issue from its initial launch date. Our hearts go out to all those affected by the COVID-19 pandemic and we’re so grateful to those who’ve supported us through it—everyone who’s shown us patience, sent work our way, or purchased issues of the lit mag (like this one!) or Nightingale & Sparrow Press titles. We’ve had four books launch since March—A letter from your sheets // if your sheets could speak by Elizabeth Kemball, Dichotomy by Mikhayla Robinson, A Daughter for Mr. Spider by Megan Russo (who also serves as production manager here at N&S!) and Natalie by Keana Aguila Labra. We’re so excited to add melody to our spring lineup!
When issue no. V, love, came to be, I prefaced it in part with a note that the new year had already been chaotic. As you can imagine, that chaos has certainly intensified! But our team has been hard at work to bring a bit of a bright spot into being with melody. I’m so grateful to the members of our team who’ve kept us on-track, even when some of us (myself included) have struggled to adjust. At the end of the day, our N&S nest really is a community, and I’m so grateful to each one who makes our press possible.
Of course, that gratitude extends: thank you to our contributors, submitters, readers (like you!), followers, customers, and Ko-fi donors. As you likely know already, Nightingale & Sparrow is currently run on an entirely volunteer basis—every bit of income we bring in goes back to producing the literary magazine, website, and every print and digital book we put out. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
With all that in mind, welcome to melody. We asked submitters to send us “heartsongs and top hits, your ballads and breakup anthems. Share the songs that have made you who you are and the soundtrack to the worst moments of your life. Sing us to sleep and make us dance to the beats.” Let Linda McMullen’s “Daphne” and Kathleen McKitty Harris’ “New York’s (Just Like) Starting Over” pull at your heartstrings and “Soft susurrus” by Athena Melliar and “A little love poem on a little love poem” by N.D. Erwin lull you. Lean into the music that plays through each page.
Thank you again from all of us at Nightingale & Sparrow. Enjoy melody and stay tuned for schoolhouse this summer!
Juliette Sebock
Editor-in-Chief, Nightingale & Sparrow
A Change Of Key
A Change Of Key
Lynn White
We were in perfect harmony;
matching our moves
perfectly in tune
singing like angels
straight out of Paradise.But all it took was a change of key
for us to fall out of step.
Just a few notes at first –
soft as snowflakes
and no damage done.
The angels caught them before they fell.Then one crashed.
We floundered.
A discord is always a shock,
more so when it follows a melody.Soon they came pouring down –
cascades of discords
sharp as hailstones.And now we are falling,
deserted by the angels,
out of step
off key
tuneless
finished
separated
by discord;
our past melodies gone.To A Singer, From Her Songs
To A Singer, From Her Songs
Clare O’Brien
You have driven us for years.
Counting our notes like sheep, urging us over storm-weathered hills.Our cries are nothing to you.
Some you catch, stretching them beyond your rhythm, into the dark.Some of us you call, softly at first;
Some you flay alive, the sound reverberating as you feed.Sated, you are tender then;
caressing our bones, draping our wet skins over the chords to dry.Ode to Klickitat Cabin
Ode to Klickitat Cabin
— for Henry & Betsy
Joann Renee Boswell
noise pollution scant,
echo drift sound-surround
click-a-click-a-click-a-tat
keyboard grounded,
conjoined trees skyrocket
cascade kerfuffle overhead
crunch-a-crack-a-racket
pine cones crash collide
Earth-bound like these words,
whirling brain-mirrors,
virile temptresses yurt-lure,
shimmer south, cicada
plants irreverent rhythms,
Vivaldi applauds trip
into posterity, pines persist,
drop seeds, plunging deeper,
thud soft as August sweet
grass, trembling virginal
wedding night, clouds
besotted butter-dish-glide,
simmer soil tryst
sun-ripened blackberry lips,
butterfly super powers
elevate, Pine-Elevator, lift
transcendent mortality, fly
final kiss, dip, encircle eternal
indebted atmosphere swoon.globe me whole.
