Why does a Mozart opera make me weep
But I don’t cry at any other one?
Herr Wagner’s thunderbolts put me to sleep.
Rossini’s laughs preclude a tear-duct run.
I sigh but never cry when Mimi dies.
When Carmen sings her last I maybe sniffle.
Otello’s ending makes me agonize,
But cry? That doesn’t even raise a riffle.
It must be Mozart’s music, not the action,
That turns my eyes to brimming swimming pools.
Involuntary is my heart’s reaction
To notes cascading from the sky like jewels.
