The Quartet Poem by Jim Coleman
The Quartet
I remember Angelina,
the music playing on her face -
little frowns and grimaces,
.
(as if her hands and bow were
not enough!) Nods to denote emphasis.
I won't forget Angelina.
.
She was playing the viola
with such intensity and grace.
Her smiles lit up the place.
.
I can't forget Angelina.
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5/10/2024 5:35:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
