With calluses deep and emotions shallow, sleek and fragile appendages press taunt catgut strings tightly against the ebony fret board of the pawn shop cello. One case unpacked, with unanswered hopes of unpacking the second before the sun traded its warmth for moonlit loneliness. She feigned a gentle smile at the irony that her case was actually a total of two cases. One for the over grown fiddle and the other with her life’s accomplishments. Still pressing forward, harmonizing melodies reverberating through the empty subway forest, creating sounds even though no one was there to hear the trees fall.
Still gives me goosebumps. It's sad, yet hopeful.
ReplyDeleteEvery now and then you have the ability to blow us away!
ReplyDeleteWonderful. My youngest played violin all the way to Carnegie Hall. What a thrill. Such a talented bugger. You wrote this beautifully.
ReplyDeleteMoonlit loneliness...that made me sad.
ReplyDeleteHope there is an encore.....:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteReally awesome! Beautifully rendered in these words. You're very talented.
ReplyDeleteTHERE you are! I have you on my blogroll and no new posts since NOVEMBER...but yet I was hearing from you. Come to find out, I had the OLD blog (Midlife, a journey) on there. I found this blog through Dinah, through Dana. So now I've got this one properly bookmarked and I'll be around again and am so glad you didn't think I abandoned you. Hope you've been well, dear friend. Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteThat was lovely!
ReplyDeleteGlen--now that's an 'amazing' painting!
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