When the Organist Waited
Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
The soloist reached the line
she had sung at other funerals
and could not carry it today.
The organist did not rescue her.
He held one chord,
soft enough to leave space,
steady enough to stand on.
From somewhere behind us,
a voice completed the phrase.
Then another.
The song returned
not to one throat,
but to the room
that knew how to receive it.
65 words · 14 lines · Free Verse