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Violins Weep
When telephone rings and my colleague
embarks on a loud conversation, I fight
back with Oblida-Oblada -life goes on-
to counter the noise, an energy squirt
while I struggle with a translation text
When silence descends I seek other
music, Saint-Saens nearly drove me
mad with loud piano chords, found
the soothing tones of Mantovani,
though the violins weep
In my mind long-sleeved ladies slow-
dance in the arms of tuxedoed men
all against a glittering background
of pink champagne…
poem
by
Margaret Alice Second
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