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Solo

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So today, I await the solo tryout.
I go to extra lessons, live, breathe, be the music.

Finally, tryouts come along.
Six first violins show up.
I am doubting I, yes me, can beat every single one of them.
We all sign up for the order we shall perform in.
I am number ten. One by one, every person goes into
the audition, comes out with an unhappy look on their face.
People ask if I am nervous.
I am not nervous, just waiting for the moment to come.
He calls number nine.
They go in, come out, then he calls my number, number ten.

The judge sits, sits with his back turned,
music stand in front, no expression.
I play, leave, and await results.

I try to keep myself contained.
Wait eats me from the inside to the out.
The judge comes out of the room. First he announces the
second violin soloist, number six.
Then, a quick and easy number slides off his tongue, number ten.





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