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An Imp in my Cello

Posted by Wild Musette editor on

An Imp in my Cello

by Mary Vlooswyk


at the edge of my black leather chair

spicy orange maple with marmalade stripes

between my knees

on a cool April morning in 2017

next to my desk that sits by windows overlooking the city

pegs slip


my cello with a swan neck and precisely rounded scroll

has flaccid strings lying on her body

drooping off the fingerboard

my heart sinks

alone to face this curvy, bold instrument

I send Morrigan a quick plea


I sit a moment with this contrary piece of wood

begin to tighten her strings

A string—tuned

D string—tuned

G string—

everything unravels


a test of wills between me

and the discordant imp that has entered the room

I corral my cello between my legs

she brings me to a moment


nothing exists except me and a string


the A string


a vibration

an entrance to musical essence

beads of sweat drip off my forehead

I work to expunge the imp

and as the cello slowly regains taut strings

once again in tune

I realize the cello views me like the imp

a visitor just passing through



Mary Vlooswyk is an Alberta-born emerging artist. She was short-listed in January 2018 for Quattro Books Best New Poet Award. Her poetry placed third in a Canada 150 Contest. Her writing has appeared in Gusts, FreeFall Magazine, Mothers Always Write, The Asahi Shimbun, and Haiku Canada anthologies. She has dabbled in visual arts. Mary is a lover of the outdoors but can be equally moved by music. Travel and music, especially cello, which she studies, often influence her writing and her open mic sessions.


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