I know a musician's dead because
High school principal, Leonard J. Fliedner
Turns up in my dream. He wears, as usual,
A grey, three piece suit. He looks good --
Cool, confident, prepared as in life
To put down his papers, push back his specs,
Loosen his silk tie, turn his cuffs up,
Flex his pale fingers and play piano
With wild precision. I don't tell him
He's dead but fold his thin body
In a long embrace.
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