Yo-Yo Ma
Anticipation plays upon my brain
like the cold air
tingling, biting at my flesh.
Clothes come out of cedar chests--
a wool sweater to listen to
chamber music.
I glance to the side--
And empty seat
I glance to back--
a beautiful symphony cellist.
I glance to the other side--
two blind women and a dog
patiently listening to an
uninteresting Kirschner Toccata.
Applause, Applause
An open door
The Wolf
and then the Cello.
Shostakovich resonating n
The hall.
A Cadenza
Jaws on the floor
as his technique realizes
what others see as impossible.
Stand up!
Ovation!
Encore!
but he never returns.
At intermission,
Katie Berg and I discuss
the arco/pizzacato
and Merrik behind me
and the 88 years of
Mr. Berg.