Tuning Fork

It’s not world peace
not even the end of hunger
It isn’t fairness, respect
or inspiration
A search for words
futile as perfect love, 
a tune heard early
then lost among songs
It isn’t even brotherhood
Tuning fork you are
the search for perfect pitch
harmonies lifting
within a symphony
more dense than Turangalîla
In the careful curve of time
something wants to bend
just so, to curl
around the note
and lift the endless music

slightly
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