Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Concerto

Every time I hear the silver voices of the violins
I am lost in awe and wonder.
The dried guts of a cat plus a few wires
Stretched over the belly of a pierced wooden box
Caressed by waxed hairs from a horse's tail
From these things are made such heavenly sounds.
And yet fools say there are no miracles!

VERNA DANFORTH.

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