After-Rehearsal Biscuits

by The Bright Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

We spend two hours blending vowels, matching breath, becoming one careful instrument. Then someone opens the biscuit tin. Harmony ends immediately. The basses reach first. The altos form an orderly queue that is not orderly. By the time the sopranos arrive, only one broken custard cream remains, still perfectly in tune.
51 words · 11 lines · Free Verse
choirfoodrehearsalcontrastpersonificationhumorfree-verse

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