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Therapy
October 24, 2016
On rainy nights,
occasional jazz
loud enough for human life
is sacred.
When rhythm comes
with a cymbals clash
or a saxophone’s young cry,
we’re moving:
moving along
with the tiptoeing
run of fingers plucking string
as they dance.
Like us, they cry
at night but still sing
and comfort us with music
until day has advanced.
© Ani S., Petaluma, CA
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Music is my peace.