Old man fading, <br />A dusty, <br />Old quill, nearly silenced <br /> <br />His fingers, ink-stained sensations <br />Could really fiddle… <br />Flailing those poetic strings <br /> <br />Like whispers to the ages, <br />Now a soundless voice, on <br />An orchestra’s score-less page. <br /> <br /> <br />(Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee <br />~July 12,2006)<br /><br />Debora Short<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-orchestra-s-scoreless-page-2/
