Late for a world premiere,
I waited with an usher
for the first movement to end,
a full house in the darkened hall.

Federico Bolognese, creator
of instruments subsonic, super –
of subliminal sounds felt, not heard –
music with a hidden voice.

Centered in a semicircle of strings,
the piccolino. A triple bass loomed behind –
stroke of a bow on its strings
a mummy’s silent cry.

They took me to the winter
of my life. I burned
in ice amongst the betrayers,
heard Lucifer’s groans

then brought me back
to the moment day dawns
in early spring, a daffodil’s first light,
and the world seemed good again.

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