The Concert

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Flickr Image by Sarah Dismukes

Bright light,
plentiful mirrors
the long sweep of lace curtains.
Faces scattered,
people.
She played a running melody.
Swollen fingers
worked
her wrists and hands
dizzily.
The room
seemed full of people;
stupid people who made her play.
She played
through trembling limbs
and burning eyes;
played and sung
hoping to discover the secret.
Nervous,
she laughed
and thrilled out
into the air –
the day before the tennis tournament.

Copyright Β© January 2013 Norma Martiri

Created from Pointed Roofs byΒ Dorothy Miller Richardson

The Concert

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12 thoughts on “The Concert

  1. it is intersting to me the story you got out of this…made me thinkperhaps she would rather be playing piano than tennis…or maybe vice versa…and how as parents we put our own dreams on our kids at times….

  2. You got it Brian. I wrote it thinking that she would rather be playing tennis than the piano but you can take it either way. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment πŸ™‚

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