Noted Silence

fingers scampering along
the edge of the crisom-shaded shell

I feel for the rusted zipper
and the corroded clasps cocooned beneath

My quick breath
sends irregular, soft currents
towards the fringed seams
that quiver in return

Grasping the hinged cover
I swing it upward

it sits quietly and undisturbed
seasoned by stagnant air and
masked by a thin, viscous layer of rosin

The wooden figure
is accompained by a
loosened bow, swaying
from it's disassembled cradle

removing it
I trace the nicked contour
and pluck the
untuned strings

The chinrest is cold
perched upon my shoulder
The bow
too light to dance

Bringing my arm around
I rest the horse hair between the
fingerboard and bridge

And slowly drag it away