STRINGS ATTACHED
In May and October I’ve walked
by a house or two with open windows
and out came the strident sounds
of a kid - I presume it’s a kid -
practicing her violin. I also assume
it’s a young girl with black hair. I walk
down imagining her 20 years later
in a philharmonic orchestra -
still with dark black hair -
and a rich smile on her face - with
sweet sounds flowing from her bow
and violin - she remembering
how much it took to get this far -
realizing life doesn’t come
with no stings attached.
© Andy Costello, Reflections 2015
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