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

Magpie Tales 48