Where Did the Altos Go?

by The Bright Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

At measure thirty-seven the altos vanish. Not from the room. From the music. They turn three pages, whisper six numbers, borrow a pencil from a bass. The conductor keeps beating time with the patient expression of someone waiting for a bus. At forty-two they return, beautiful and completely elsewhere.
49 words · 12 lines · Free Verse
choirrehearsalsheet-musichumorsimileunderstatementfree-verse

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