Woodshop Birthing

Naked and new,
still in the white—
unvarnished and unadorned
the cello lies
on the birthing table
in the maker’s studio—
sound holes open to the world—
trembling at the music
it senses will pour forth
from its body.
Surrounded by the music of a symphony
floating from the stereo above,
the cello hears each movement
as though cries from a nursery—
as though other newborn
beings of the string
are wailing and fretting,
laughing and calling.
The maker strokes the cello’s neck,
breathes above it
and the cello knows
that soon it will stand
clenched firm between a player’s legs
and make love
to anyone who will listen.

One Comment

  1. This is beautiful.

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