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Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Magpie Tales - 48 / Poem: I Can Imagine



I Can Imagine

Somewhere between the cotton weave
of a sheer web smeared across the flatness
of old sheets of inked notes silent
on pages as brittle as the print is delicate;

and the stuffy air of a concert hall
far off in some other time, I can imagine
the Cantata’s rising echo of voice
on the tail of instrumentation

jostling back and forth 
each fighting for their due
recognition— the orchestra
in a winning moment heeds

the directors baton— going allegro.
Voices bow to strings and horns
until a disquieting roll of timpani ushers in 
one final melding of chorus and instruments.





2011 © - Michael A. Wells

5 comments:

  1. I appreciated the comparison between the brittle pages and the delicate print.

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  2. Beautiful write, Michael. Why is it most concert halls have that stuffy air?

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  3. applause applause lovely post!

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  4. keep imagining.
    you can do that well...

    missed your poetry, Glad to visit you today.

    happy 2011.

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  5. "Plaudite, amici!" (Beethoven)

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