He'll start singing soon.
He'll start writing again soon.
soon, he will be singing to the blackbirds
roosting in the trees while copper pipes gleam
No one will dare take them
while he's singing.
who would wander into such a place
where such a smooth voice is filling the space,
he thinks no one is listening, but they
we can hear him singing even in our sleep
we know he is singing to make the stars
light up at night, for the Man in the Moon
to finally close his sleepy eyes.
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