the Caffeinated Sophist
Come and sit down and enjoy a cup.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
[Poem Share] Violinist
We don't see him
but we hear him.
Playing his music,
off the walls
down the vent,
behind the furniture,
in the closet,
outside, next to the door,
next to the window.
We can't see him
but we love hearing him,
and trying to find him.
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