Before the Downbeat

I told myself,
"Write three lines,"
and am trying.

Just three lines,
but my orchestra
is endlessly tuning
(at least, I hope that's the sense of this cacophony),
the strings stretching and easing in refined torture,
the teeth-on-edge to almost-perfect
slide in a hurry before the conductor

lifts his baton

and confusion
straggles off, trailing
a few frayed threads.

Something has been torn away,
and in its place--
silence as taut
as any tuned string
awaiting
the song.