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The sign on the box read
Support appreciated
it contained a few dollars and loose change

 

 

She sat on a small stool,
behind a cello twice her size.

Her eyes closed and her back,
stiff,
only her shoulders swayed as she played,
fingers holding the bow in a vice grip.

She had sapphire hair, bone china skin and a
conservative black dress, which bared her arms:
twin kaleidoscope sleeves

The music drifted above us,
transcendent
her appearance stayed with me, dreamlike.