Humming to a made-up song
Singing words that fall before
They're fully formed
Dropping from lips that stutter
And bumble through
Sometimes making sense
And others making sounds
At least, filling an empty house
Or a sidewalk, or the underside
Of trees. Their branches curved upwards
Bear the weight of the sky
Underneath the song continues
As the absentminded or thoughtful
Seeks musical company.
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