It has been a very long weekend of packing, moving, and unpacking, so I just have a short poem for you tonight. Rest well, my dear readers, tomorrow is a new day.

Tuning

Tuning the instrument

With shallow breath

And raspy voice in check

A low growl pours

From my lips

Through nervous fingers

A melody takes shape

As I strum the chords

Of an old heartache

You turn your ear

To listen to my broken song


— B.

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