Eunique

By eunique

The Er-hu Player's Bridge

Morning light.
Soft warm sun streaks
Caresses the makeshift bridge

Office workers.
Rushing, running
Stomping down the metal stairs

The Er-hu player.
Concentrating, with tool in hand
Slides bow gently across the strings

An aching tune
Floats through the air
As it laments this no-Man's land.

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