Pyotr's Gift

Written by: craig cornish

I balanced on a crescendo
as the reverberation of cannon
glanced off my chest and orange chills
ran across my back.
While, as if birthed by the composition,
warm and cool colors danced in the sky
and the loud report of fireworks echoed off buildings
and back from the now dull red horizon
to where every eye sparkled
and every face lit with emotion.
 
I sat as cellos and violas
seemed to lift a Prince and Princess,
then flutes and violins tossed them high
on bright and light notes
till landing on a bassoon’s breath---
where muscle and sound were softly still…

For Nathan's free verse contest
Inspired by Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture and Swan Lake

Craig Cornish
For Nette's Synesthesia Contest 11/21/2012