Dylan Tweney

Chamber Music Society

The rosin dust on the violinist’soldest violin is white,like the chalk beneath the wordswhere children learn to writethe equations that will definethe arcs and angles of their work.Rosin is the trace of a hundredthousand notes, silent, no sparkremaining but the sense that allhas come to rest: the sc
Dylan Tweney

The rosin dust on the violinist’s
oldest violin is white,
like the chalk beneath the words
where children learn to write
the equations that will define
the arcs and angles of their work.
Rosin is the trace of a hundred
thousand notes, silent, no spark
remaining but the sense that all
has come to rest: the scratches
on the indestructible stands,
the shabby folding chairs, matches
in the composer’s tweedy pocket.
His music, a spent and silent rocket.


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