Cello Practice

December 27, 2008

An exquisitely patterned dress shirt in deep red, black pants fresh pressed; a night on the town resolved.

Now I sit with my cello and bow, the strings alive shake the whole world; the stage.

My audience: stacks of bills and dirty laundry, vacant bookshelves and a lonely chair, papers, clothes, odds and ends; an empty room is my concert hall.

The cello weeps, cries out in the pain it pulls from my own heart.  My emotions are drawn out into the sound; my heartache escapes: and I am free.

© 2008

2 Responses to “Cello Practice”

  1. Katie said

    I’m sorry for your pain.

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