Itzhak's Daughter

27 8 0
                                        

Her taut violin strings

Commanded the hall with silence.

A magician with a horsehair wand,

She coaxed feeling

Into form, emotion held hostage in the soundboard,

Like a cocked firing pin kissing the edge

Of a rimfire bullet.

We were just visitors

Climbing musical Olympus

Witnessing Apollo possess a mortal,

Crafting theory into beauty.

Quiet-RiterWhere stories live. Discover now