The vibration of the cello’s chest
Has my breathing skipping vital breaths
Imagining notes jumping lines
Rhyming fingers keeping time
Bow slides slick like it never touches strings
As I listen nothing seems to be touching me
Except the stale scales brought to life
Bars cut with precision by the composer’s knife
Cut fingers press out the staff’s life
Play so hard the horse hair breaks
Emotional forte it’s all I can take
As I set down the bow
Eyes still closed
The breath still seems to be taken from me
And I never want this music to leave

~kb