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■ The oak
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Sit down and play for me
One of those minuets That Bach would play For Anna Magdalena. Let me watch your little fingers run on the keyboard, like leaps of sea trout schools breeding in shallow waters. I love to see your eyebrows lift and fall with the tempo - like a young hawk’s flight under a clear sky. Let me wonder at your face enlightened with inspiration, white as the foam that only forms when wind has stirred the ocean. Oh, if only I knew how to seize the moment that the two of us share, secluded from the claws of time, that stealthily snatches you away from me, with every second of the hour.
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