
She soars through the violin:
Swaying, bowing ; strings
Undercutting low, shimmering
High ; communicates emotion
From Prokofiev, the concerto .
The second movement punctuated
And melodic washes over the
Normal day of the audience,
Pushes existence into artistic
Slant, a hypnotic pull—casting .
The soloist knows the magic
| Wields the wand |
The conductor, the orchestra :
Conspirators—the audience :
Defenseless, willing to be
Stolen away . Bliss lies in the
Sumptuous strings of the
Devil’s instrument—sensuous.
All the demons come out
Of hiding to cavort in the
Last movement ; everyone dances,
Swoons . The theater pounds,
Castanets clapping . The expressive
Lines ring out . The vibrations excite,
Even as the timpani thud the loud stop : :
The swelling applause carries the spell
Through the exits, into the quiet streets .
*[ WSB ].