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From Where I Sit: Music and Movement
A small flock of unidentified birds
flies into the skeleton trees
and disappears.
What magic is this?
Smoke from the boiler-house chimney,
at the mercy of the fickle wind,
blows this way and that, confused
unstopping, white, following the music
of Mozart's violins: moving, then still
- a crescendo starts to build -
- falls away to keen -
- a lull -
...
Saturday 4th June 2016 1:02 pm
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