String Struck Poem by Dorothy Sinha

Dorothy Sinha

Dorothy Sinha

sreerampore
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Dorothy Sinha
sreerampore
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String Struck



The impeccable resonance..
is when
I writhe in pain
the thin string
cuts into my skin
Yet my fingers glide
over its brass frets
(tied with golden jute threads)



That is when
time stands still
A humming string
touches chords
a musician’s greatest reward

Sunday, March 23, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: music
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Dorothy Sinha

Dorothy Sinha

sreerampore
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Dorothy Sinha
sreerampore
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