A Night at the Orchestra
even the dust
danced
there in the beam
lined in red velvet
encrusted in gold
as the lid lifted
the maestro turned the key
and kept winding it and winding it and winding it
tight as it’d go
and the music box played
all my favorite songs …
the rise and fall of Rome
the butterfly that lives but once
the hold of love so full you can feel it
the echo of centuries past
the wind ripping through the treetops
the fish leaping out of water
the spider leaving its quiet line
the rain drip dropping down
the swans gliding effortlessly
and all along the little bird
with its little song
sings not for applause
or ovation
but for the simple pleasure
of singing
TL