by Jennifer K. Sweeney

There is a blue city in mind
constructed slantways
along a rippling canal, 

clean and unpeopled but for a musician
who plays a harp without strings. 

The city has one chair
where he sits by the broad strokes of water. 

A lone streetlight tends
its blue arc of light. 

A Persian door. A zeppelin sky.
The world filters through 

his empty frame as he plucks the air.
Maybe you hear a song or maybe you don’t. 

That is the choice we are always making.
Jennifer K. Sweeney is the author of two poetry collections: Salt Memory (Main Street Rag, 2006), available at, and How to Live on Bread and Music (Perugia Press, 2009), available at Visit the author at This remarkable poet offers private instruction and poetry critiques. Learn more here.

PAINTING: “La page blanche” (“The white page”) by Rene Magritte (1967). Learn more at