Sappho takes us down to the creek
Where she eats the magic flowers
That allow her to hear
The voices of the ancestors.
Who can believe such a thing?
Until we hear her sing.
We sink into her banks,
Weeping and howling,
Bound by her haunting calls.
Who else has she already spun under her spell?
The boys from down the street?
I ask, but the others just laugh,
"Someday she will be famous!"
But they say that about any pretty girl
Willing to feed them flowers
And sing to them love songs.
Tad Neuhaus, guitar
Joanna Dane, vocals
and gold chickpeas were growing on the banks
Sappho, Fragment 143
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