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Poetry of the Times
My foot slaps time and I nod
"yes, yes, yes" as the trio
brings Beethoven's melody
back to life, violin, cello,
clarinet coming in to comment
like small talk at the pre-concert party.
There were stories of tornadoes,
rain, someone's near-miss car crash.
And the moment a woman scraped
one long, sour note when she asked
my friend if her son has schizophrenia,
the reply reeled off like a soloist
who knows how to play through
mistakes without missing a beat.