Poem: «The Violin Lesson»

The lesson starts with black notes one by one seeking attention,
the body soon reacts and lets the rhythm filter in,
and sliding through each string are four fast fingers full of tension,
and cruising through the bow she conjures spirits in the wind.

The violin caresses warm her shoulders and phrases find intention,
the chord progression so precise now burns within,
the legs that move the dancer are just begging for ascension,
the bodies slither forwards so let the dance begin.

Then suddenly a sound like thunder bursts right in with wild pretension,
four hands, two drums, four feet, splash wildly, mad, insane,
and four thick strings vibrate drunk with declension,
and the bodies slither forwards so profane.

The lesson ends with white notes, long, enduring intervention,
the bodies drenched in sweat slowly retreat,
and sliding through each string the violin proffers the question,
where do these notes go hide when our dance-music is complete?

C.2022, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 02 MAY 2022, Miami Beach, Florida, USA