Back to Brahms, to my mind’s cathedral to
sort through entangled webs stretching
between every musical piece with its own
reality: he is with me, I feel him, we were
merry today - it was a play for him - I wish
he could be in on this comedy presented
By my kids - singing Puppet on a String -
remember how the family receded when
you and I played outside, remember the
night in hospital with its music eternal
Boccherini’s minuet and the five of us
one kernel bursting asunder to show
One spirit splintering into different
facets, each on a spinning carousel
of emptiness imploding
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