So near that I could see the toil
Of her face muscles, a pulse like a moth
Fluttering under the fine skin,
And the indelible veins of her smooth brow.
I could see, too, the twitching of the fingers,
Caught temporarily in art’s neurosis,
As we sat there or warmly applauded
This player who so beautifully suffered
For each of us upon her instrument.
Photo: Fujifilm X-E2 with XF 55-200 mm