white jazz singer scats
my father wouldn't like her
i miss his great ears
i sang that tune once
hills alive with music's sound
all i must relearn
light streams through white blinds
bright gold bars float on wood floor
bird shadows flutter
crocheting Christmas
new designs meet old standards
trees, neckwarmers, love
my family
people i don't know talking
on the radio
Sunday radio
secular worship, hearing
all day NPR
La Bohème, Carmen,
Madame Butterfly, Mommy,
i hear you in these
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