a symphony orchestra.
there is a thunderstorm,
they are playing a Wagner overture
and the people leave their seats under the trees
and run inside to the pavilion
the women giggling, the men pretending calm,
wet cigarettes being thrown away,
Wagner plays on, and then they are all under the
pavilion. the birds even come in from the trees
and enter the pavilion and then it is the Hungarian
Rhapsody #2 by Lizst, and it still rains, but look,
one man sits alone in the rain
listening. the audience notices him. they turn
and look. the orchestra goes about its
business. the man sits in the night in the rain,
listening. there is something wrong with him,
isn't there?
he came to hear the
music.
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Comments1This poem always resonated with me since I read it in my youth. The vividness of the scene, the frenetic rush from the storm, and the solitary figure, unperturbed; just listening. It stirs up emotions about being different from the crowd. "Wagner plays on, and then they are all under the pavilion." Still gets me every time.