November dribbles - 18

Not lost; just hiding,
Sliding the words between pages
White space defines me.

Not lost; unheard though
Wondering if she’ll be there
Remembering she’s gone.

Not lost; preparing
Warily checking the beat
While she’s waiting to dance.

Not lost; emboldened
Enfolded in symbol and sound
The muse and the chance.

Giving thanks for the muse and the words

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