THIRD ROW: BALCONY

Tune, rare hope to each of life’s swift chords,
Played softly in wind,
Played surely in stars.

Lift, life chord, the staying thought:
The discordant sound of lives
In time against the movement’s theme.

Surround the light humiliation of despair-borne
Love returned unlisted, unknown.
Surround the players lost in music not their own.

Overshadow, orchestra. In keep step, bring
Up the notes and pulse of straight-lined songs.

Deliver now the chords of peace, alone:
Played well,
Heard long.

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