This poem was published in Lyrical Iowa, 2009, by the Iowa Poetry Association
On the Rare Occasion of the Bass Solo
The bow passes confidently over the strings,
and her fingers press down above the bridge.
Sonorous sounds fill the room,
and all are caught up for a moment
in their own interpretation.
We are engaged in the experience,
and we feel what you feel;
though only your body moves with your bass,
it is as if we are playing, as if we are singing,
the harmony makes us one.
The solo ends and vision expands
to hold the entire orchestra.
They continue, but, for a brief second,
your eyes look out and meet mine,
and I know what it was that you did.