Clara (dawnsama) wrote in dawnfic,
Clara
dawnsama
dawnfic

Practice (original poetry

Practice
By Clara Ng-Quinn


Perhaps I should not
sniff rosin while I practice,
but I cannot help if it
had gotten on my nose,
somehow, when I accidentally smacked
myself with the hairs of the bow.

It smelled like
violin bows screeching along strings,
sawing out some Mozart symphony
to the beat of a drumming monkey.
Much as a worm would

inch along a sloppy sidewalk,
squish squish squish.

I wiped my skin and dust of

metallic-once-catguts strings
vibrating under horse hair running
along a trembling bridge,
trying to keep steady and toned
and avoid falling into
the murky water beneath

rubbed onto my index finger.
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