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Rhapsody

Rhapsody by Ben Ziman-Bright ' Sat in the cheap seats Of Symphony Hall, squinting As the instruments tuned up I could pick out only you: Fourth row back and clutching Your viola, bright hair spilt Across the strings. You were Deep in a flurry of pages With bitten lip, too Intent on forcing that Melody right to the cheap seats To notice me up there, ears straining To block out any sound but yours.'

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