Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Magic Flute

An evening at the Opera: a Comedy and Tragedy

With the heavy swing of an anchored door,
you enter an art deco splendor;
glimmering of gold.
a light emits from the white marble flooring, navigating one with ease.
A sea of black garments keep adrift, till docked at a port of wine.

Drawn to the rising current of red,
we make way of heaving chicago buoy's.
while charting the upper level, some oozing of souls became a flash flood.
for then, I feared the balcony would capsize.
the cramming of lanky gams into short stature seating,
billowing winter coats, loud voices,
and the stark glow of iphones.

The lights dimmed and with profound ease,
the soft whisper of music floated upward.
it's precise elegance beckoned my eyes to close.
breathing in music first heard 221 years past...

I left Time.

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