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The Soundtrack to These Crazy Days
A guitar and a faceless
strummer are
All that I know to exist
Right now
As I watch the six sides of this room
And the garden that says it’s summer.
From rooms below
Left or right
Or above?
Ear to wall, each one’s vibrations trick –
Where is the music made?
These acoustic musings are
Someone else’s flared and fraying chords but they
Stop
When I answer my phone,
When footsteps kick at the corridor.
These acoustic musings are
An unintended lullaby
The whistle while I work
The soundtrack to these crazy days,
Where most hours lounge inept and inert.
©
Emily Koch
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