a symphony practices
outside my walls,
in the park where the
pigeons gather for children
one two
skip too ma loo
a little girl lost
her red left shoe
there is laughter mixed with
violins, a cymbal crash, a
little boy holds his breath
one two
skip too ma loo
little boy Jon
is a deep shade of blue
the conductor slips, a
note falls sideways off
a swing, the world
grinds to a halt
one two
skip too ma loo
nothing is perfect
not even you
Practice Makes Perfect, Or Something Like It
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