The Day Florencia Made Love to a Viola – a poem

To experience the real poetry of this moment, read Max Paradiso’s article in the New York Times. There is a race to record the sounds of Stradivari stringed instruments–every note possible–because the instruments are beginning to decay. Something about a whole town–a mayor, the police, and the citizens–collectively maintaining silence to record the purest sounds evokes both sorrow, solemnity, and beauty.

In the last line of the poem, “begins” should be “began.”

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Richard P says:

    What an interesting story. Great occasion for a poem.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. mcfeats says:

      It deserves a revised poem. I love to think of the collective effort to immortalize the instruments.


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