not there to see

Sutra.

I listened and watched in awe
gasping for air,
welcoming a tear

how they fell like dominoes
with a majestic tremor
(plywood boxes with men)

how someone in the audience
giggled unruly midst everything
(little boy on row 1)

how the violin cried along the cello
in enchanting tristesse
(grand piano, too)

how I recognized the movements
as those I once hoped to emulate
(Tai Chi)

how I hoped to recall it all
when I see you next
(not the same)

how I longed to hold your hand
while all this was laid before me
(explain)

how you were not there to see
and it made me sigh
( . )