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The Cello

As Yo Yo’s cello sings Mascagni, I take flight on those four

Strings which bring me to a place of grace and calm. I go

To a nest too small for the rest of the world, a nest close

To the sky where passers-by are trekking to another place.

I hear them say, we’ve paid our dues: we have lived and we

Have died, and on the other side we escape a remake of that

Ultimate sorrow.

Night had begun to creep over his window sill casting a

Gloom as deep as the shadows in his room. On a dresser

In the corner, the nurse has lain a note, he knows by rote

“….its time for you to say goodbye.” The room was packed

With the departed but no one there to say goodbye.

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Aug 07, 2021

Beautiful. Stay with us longer dear Glen. I love your inner rhymes in these moving poems. Love, Susan

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