Like a four-piece harmony
Your constant companion
The sound is the promise of sweet
Though the tune up is fitful and loud
Betraying nothing of the subtlety
the complexity about to come
Players tightening strings
Releasing the ache of wooden knobs
The rattle of brass and bass
Undercut by anticipation's shuffle.
Silence - positions taken
Lips pursed and fingers perched
denying the gather of slipping sweat.
The punch of sound
A dazzling starburst
Of colours that hang in the balance
The dip and tremble of the bow,
tremulous breath
Every graceful push
Every hard pull
The players soon as exhausted as we
Players ourselves
5/15/12
YOU ARE READING
Typed Word Series
PoetryWords connect all of us. Through laughter, memories, or ridiculous melancholy, we are what we say and what we write. TWS differs from WWS in form only. These are poems longer than 7 lines, allowing a little more freedom in exploring themes and more...
