The Music Which Is Playing
While i am reading, certain phrases
leap at me from the printed pages.
Questions are posed, demanding answers,
to provide music for us dancers.
We dance through life being unaware
of thrills and tragedies we all share.
And suddenly a question is raised
by the way a thought is being phrased.
We had not thought in this way B4
and now have to think about it more.
Sometimes the ideas for a poem
are generated as we know’em.
Is this a kind of plagiarism?
No; just music, which i play with’em.

Walt Abbott–10-18-08