Mozart, unhappy in Salzburg despite
Lucia Silla’s nod in Milan,
turns
to Sturm und Drang—his blending desperate
strings in searching awe, as if psyche yearns
to rush back to 9 Getreidegasse, both dash
and dance past his old neighborhood’s columns
of shops with wrought-iron guild signs, flowered cache
of courtyards and passageways. How solemn
his sudden pause and reflection, then swell
of fearful wonder somehow transcending
to gentle cadence, as if calmed to tell
Constanze (who he’s yet to meet) heart sings
when he sees her. How October wind spins
leaves around them, captured through violins.
Roger Armbrust
December 12,
2012
