Vivacissimo
Vivacissimo
guitar
sitting unplayed, unlearned
beside its counterparts:
piano, saxophone, koto,
soon to be joined by a banjo
a silent quintet
untouched, unheard
why do I not put my hand to them
why do they sit in this orchestral mausoleum
is it because there is no music
within me,
no euphony bursting from inside
that must find expression
in the movements of my fingers
is it that I fear
untamed chords and notes
will come of the tumult
of my mind,
cacophonous sharps and flats
that refuse lyrical composition
and what if
the clefs line up and Aeodean
beauty and grace emerge instead,
flying from me in a frenzied vivacissimo
how much more frightening
is beauty than silence
Copyright © Susan Finnis | Year Posted 2022
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