Pressed to her lips
Adds humidity to the music
We're mesmerized by her fingers,
Ten delicate Italian wafers,
Dancing along the reed.

A strand of hair
Falls across her concentrating face
We hold our breath,
Pray for luck
And watch her tuck it back in place.

At the end of every night
We stand,
Clapping furiously,
Subduing the familiar urge
To spread
Our magnificent blue-feathered

Not leaping over the balcony,
Onto the stage,
Not scooping up
This magical creature
With our customary haste
Not bringing forward her hour of death
Is unusual behavior
And a worrying sign of love.

Hassan Abdulrazzak

If you have any comments on this poem,  Hassan Abdulrazzak would be pleased to hear them.