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Closing Music

Skepticism

I am here
I hear your voices
Yet you look through me
Now my time has come

Easily you lift me
Gently swinging
You carry me
Smooth quiet movement

Like a boat downstream
No time for speeches
There is music
First quiet
Growing louder

With the music
You set me down
Sound of the sand
Like summer rain

On a tin roof
With the sand
The music becomes distant
And almost to soon
There is only silence