The final chord
by Andrew Oram
No one could speak
Bows were still quivering, the baton aloft at the podium
The diminuendo had left the air reverberating like a white flame
There was no boor blasting the silence with a cough or sputtered bravo
Instead, we sat in wonderment…
Could we dare to stand after three hammer blows of fate?
Would the married youngsters enjoy the simple gifts of the Appalachian hillside?
Could the symphonist have lived to add a fourth movement?
What new mischief will Puck flit to after making amends?
Would carpets still glide over Arabian nights?
Did the heartbroken maiden truly die
Or would she rise for the next day’s matinee, filled anew with trusting adoration?
Andrew Oram has published in The Economist, the Journal of Information Technology & Politics, and Vanguardia Dossier. His poems have appeared in Ají, Conclave, Genre: Urban Arts, Heron Clan, J Journal, Main Street, Nine Cloud Journal, Poetry Leaves, Steam Ticket, Waymark Literary Magazine, and elsewhere. He has lived in the Boston, Massachusetts area for almost 50 years.