Duet For Many Hands

We can never be certain from what direction meaning will break in: dawn glossing the familiar dream surprise of melody sounding in a dusty instrument Or lay a knowing fabric on the world frail as a cobweb stretching in a storm Or draw interstices of light and darkness in an empty room that waits for someone (you?) to discover music in autumn's failing rhythms But once evoked it keeps is always now no matter how long it takes.

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