WHEN DONE IS DONE

When paint

turns to taffy

and canvas

becomes kite,

when words

break like balsa

and fugues 

exfoliate,

star light 
comes down 

and silence
it does make

from the gleam

in a prodigy's eye.

Quivers the baton
on the stand

just having left 
the maestro's

porcelain-like 
hand.