I walk to the corner for aspirin
crossing the sidewalk as it bisects me
the people all occupied with being
careful and cautious afraid to be seen.
I, too, wish I were more invisible
that the plunge in the maelstrom fingers
like a violin that becomes myself
played by a sound wave along a quiver
Silent orchestra, hour of stillness,
a vessel as celestial as a star
brimming in a whole and part mystery
the sacred noon hour has passed and filled
Taking two drops from a symptom of pain
to answer the pressure of life again.
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