The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Nigh is the Panoply's Crescendo

Both the bard and the basket case
the diplomat and the twiddling conductor
lost in an atmospheric hymn somehow
we've heard before, with a smile and
wink to the violin about to simonize
the pews in lilting spiccato leaving
the visiting monks to their conclave
while fingers flourish along the neck
like an oar sweeping between the duckweed
and striking a sunken rootball upturned
wondering what moccasins were awakened
yet the baton mouths Attend! and so
the stringed choir ascends as the clarinets
mend the broken prayer between the 
death trumpets blare and the piccolo
leaving it all asparkle with dewy 
congratulations at having traversed 
the palimpsestic tablature of 
our inconceivably ontic score.
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