Katie Toussaint



Draping the bow across the strings, your fingertips shiver

With vibrato and your melody pours

Onto the stage.

It washes over the whorled surface to spin

And break against the walls, spilling

Into the audience.  You stand in the pool

Of stage light as glints of amber catch in your strings.

You almost smile.

But your memory or your fingertip slips

And you open your eyes- sound foams

And fizzles out on the practice room floor.

You close your eyes once more

And something you will never touch

Flies away.


Artist’s Bio

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