Dvorak

Dvorak

How can someone dead six decades before my life
Move me so? How can his decaying tympanis
Cause my heart to quell its perturbations
With a conductor’s descending baton?
Tell me that no genius burned
Within the flags and dots of
Each five-staffed page.
And I will mention,
You do not know
My composer.
My Dvorak!

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008