October 18, 2011 § 5 Comments
“Did you know”, he asked
With intonation that impended question,
(But that sqinty eye that told me he knew I didn’t)
“That violins play each other?
That when one holds a note, another
If close enough
Will ring the same pitch?
You see,” he said,
With intonation that impended nothing, particularly
(But a sideways glance that spoke ever so slightly
It’s a sympathetic instrument.”
How dangerous it was
When his bow arm met
His pen hand.