Running in ¾ time
My bow moves gracefully across the strings
The imprints on my fingers hurting ever so slightly
My concentration tunes out the rhythms that I desperately need to hear
Sharps are too high and naturals are played instead of flats
Quarter notes become halfs and halfs are played as whole
The accelerando comes next and I get left like a leaf blowing in the wind
YOU ARE READING
Poetry And Other Things
PoetryA collection of poems and other stuff that I've written. Some sad, happy, or just fun.
