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No. 6, in C Major, with Voice

I’ve opened a window

to blend the outside

with what is in,

the strings of a concerto

playing from my radio,

accompanying a cardinal

in its morning lilt.


When an adagio arrives,

an oriole will add a vocal

that the composer did not intend,

unless it was of love

the violinist lamented

in the unspoken sweep

of his bow.




Andreas Gripp


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