Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Thousand: One Hundred Forty-Seven

That would be what a conductor does. Not a train conductor, because when you punch a ticket you’re using a small grasping motion with an even-less-dramatic-than-blunt-nosed-scissors hole punch in your hand. Not a copper wire, for, although a copper wire is a good conductor, it can be charged with thousands of electrons and pretty much remain inert. The conductor before the symphony orchestra. That guy. A slim white baton in one hand, reaching with both arms into the music to raise it, to lower it, to rush it forth, to pull it back. Like that. The wings. The long feathers


Elisabeth said...

What a lovely line of associations, and a splendid play on words. Thanks.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

Thanks for reading!