My Song
I have a song to sing, except
I don’t know the words.
The tune is elusive, slippery.
My fingers fumble
for the chords.
My voice is cracked and hoarse.
And yet this song
is waiting to be sung.
If only it would come to me
from wherever
songs come from
I would sing and send it
wherever songs go:
the ear, the mind,
the heart.
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