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How is the body held at ease,
a sprawl, the largeness of the self
spreading? Are there too many things
missed? too many times walking past the cello,
the cello master walking away in his Asianness,
cellos tucked in his house, his only daughter
(or is she his favorite pupil) accompanying him
in this early chilly before-dawn.

How does the tune start up
the decision to bend over the body of his cello
to bolster himself up by what he can cause to sound,
the walk chilly, the skin chilling beyond reason,
beyond safety, probably: a musician ought not
to experience such extremes, such
loveliness.