Richard Schnap- A Poem

FOR ERIN

Of all the violinists I knew back then
You were the instrument personified the most

Able to pivot from a classical prelude
To a hillbilly hoedown without missing a step

And you had a sweet heart that beat within you
One that never needed to be polished or rosined

That shined like the finest spruce and maple
On both concert stages and in dimly lit bars

And though I probably will never know
Exactly what came to take you and why

I hope that the music that resounds in Heaven
Is much more in tune than it is on Earth