His great second piano concerto
alone would have been enough to save us.
Chopin, turned 20—caught in larghetto
of his demonic tuberculosis—
unmasking romantic masterpieces,
just now completes formal education.
Over halfway through life, no wonder his
old soul solar flares through his work, passion
and discipline caressing ivory
keys. Beautiful singers ignite phrases
to erotic height, his works a love story
of soft eyes and light. He’ll move on, grace us
with life’s pulse through music. We’ll stray, bereft as
lost souls, until we hear what he left us.
Roger Armbrust
June 29, 2013
