The song.  Unaffected.

Opens like spring.  Formed

from vines grasping at the

answer to words.  Rhythms

without explanations.  A

sense of beauty, full of

individual reason.  A flag of

intention.  A banner to gather

voices rising for the occasion.

Full verses.  Empty hearts.

A recipe of melancholy. Winds

ebb in favor of voices.  Hands

raised.  Rooms full of faces deep

into night.  Applause for the end.

Last curtain.  Deep breath.  Cold

evening.  Warm thoughts.

lingering passages.  Smiles for

no reason.  To home.  To bed.

Silence for the moment.


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