Silence

The cello stands abandoned
propped in its futility,
yearning to be coaxed by your muse,
brought to life by your fingers,
to sing in the light of your star
shine again.
I know just how it feels.
Only you could bring my
empty places to rejoice and resonate.
The harmonics' ringing when our souls entwined
left with you.
Silence is their death.

—Jan Hoffman-Hockenberry (c) 2003

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