Violin Notes

By Erin Jamieson


a cramped auditorium

with sticky budget seats

a mother holding a baby

ho glares at me

as if to say

why are you

still here?


heads dusted with stage lights

I see him: black suit

warm brown eyes,

the hint of a smile

he has not shown me

for quite some time


fingers moving nimbly

as the chorus swells

time for his solo

a haunted melody

that echoes in my chest


We are dusted with

ethereal stage lights

eager parents &

impatient siblings


I cling to every note

knowing when this song ends

he’ll exit the stage

without seeing me

just carrying that haunted lullaby


that repeats now

in my dreams

a decade later


I lost two of my best friends to music:


the first, marching band practice

with more and more hours carved

for new friends and drills and dreams

so different than mine

the same friend I once imagined

I’d toast on her wedding day


the second, an elegant violin

that sang haunted melodies

lingering reasons why he

could never open up to me

beautiful fractures, then-