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Sonja Benskin Mesher
Poems
Jan 2018
.the pianist.
heard her in the foyer,
playing while she waited.
heard her on stage,
where we were staging,
red.
that is a posh piano
all shine, and polish.
there is another downstairs
in the music room, we donβt
know if it is tuned.
so she plays with us
now, the resident artists
who live elsewhere.
who like the moon.
sbm.
Written by
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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