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Grace Pickard Nov 2014
Constant
From the cue of entrance
Through the chaotic ink splashes
And the measures of rest
A part of us keeps this rhythm
Strung clear and precise
Mysteriously, wandering throughout
We pass around the chore
Until the final chord is drawn

But we survive
In the minds of our audience,
Forever trying to grasp hold of
Our fleeting orchestral heart beat:
Ostinato
An entrance cue in orchestra would be a breath. I like to relate music to life/the human body, in this poem my body is associated with an orchestra because orchestras preform as a single unit. Also, an ostinato is a repeated rhythm... Which in this case is my heart beating.
Again and again
The ostinato repeats
It's stuck in my head.

— The End —