Within the realm of unplayed instrumentation a crescendo of specific notes are lost dangling on high maple branches during autumn leaf change and only divots below the mowed through grassy soil throughout segregated quarantine reserves partitions of divorced land In the bottom of a child’s backpack
so heart jarring and singularly dedicated to the wandering dreamer harboring any thoughts of doubt about what is and what might inhibit the coming up next
covering over wooden plank necks with strings of primitive notation drafted inside the woods create, rows of ivory keys and ebony flats, this includes either screeching or murmuring brass buttons can make And depending on the blow
Lead based letters Squeezed together grammar and prose have no window to grandstand in a duel verses this one climb of instrumental verse these missing tones are in tangible reaches could even be in a soft mother’s dream waiting to be awoken to bring an awakening
Who will seek and find this group of lost tones with striking nuances so spirit soothing that seeing the mere future is old news but instilling, feeling, and describing the true meaning of life after hearing what is under, inside and above this crest of colored resonance of tonal pitch...
Or maybe it can insight a minor confidence in the one who lacks it to take that small step forward Ensuring another step