My goodbye my fancy

so ends a chapter—farewell
on swift changes of a chord
the stars are aligned:
nylon strings
hoarse engine
orange embers
tea ceramic
knotted rope
music of various notes
age and sorrow has melded
a single learned instrument
I am that instrument!
and go forth, pronouncing
let the rest be as the middle was
rich era of exhaustion
ideal and failure
the truth simmering under constant
rudiments of personality and love
humor and tempered longing
the instrument demands more music!
I am one of many singers
we sit on the fulcrum of juvenile growth
dangling legs over the edge
where wimpering boys debate flowers
and a stoic guides sumi ink across a river
he cracks a smile and I catch it
I catch the nervous gaggle of the boys too
I catch it and hold it awhile…

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