A Conductor (In Answer To T.T. Cloete) Poem by Gert Strydom

A Conductor (In Answer To T.T. Cloete)



Slowly his swings his stick up and again down
in rapture as if it’s a magic wand.
When he makes the music notes to come alive:
great classical masters rise from the grave.

Monday, October 12, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: music
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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom

Johannesburg, South Africa
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