By Paul Hertelendy
We came from out of town
In vain. We held the tickets,
But my long-run orchestra abruptly vanished,
Having merely crumble remnants for its payroll,
Leaving padlocks bolting doors,
And tears wiped off too many cheeks.
The orchestra had taken me vicariously on dizzy rides
To distant centuries and kingdoms
Via many pilgrims' dreams and piper's fables,
Stoking our imaginations –
From Petrouchkas, Pastorales, La Mer,
The Flying Dutchmen, Lincoln Portraits,
"Unanswered Questions" and the Sleeping Beauties,
To the Juliets and Tristans.
Stirring sounds of choral hunting horns,
The brotherhood epistle of The Ninth,
Those somber contrabass chorales,
The buzzing beauty of that oboe setting you aquiver –
After decades, merely memories,
In wake of closure agonies, that Farewell Symphony
Performed in darkened empty hall
With utter silence of remorse.
– 5/1/11. New Mexico Symphony, the concert that was not to be.
