Tom Waits

The keys greet his fingers like an old dog
and together they make music,
strung along by a leash
though neither know who holds what end.
He speaks to his companion as he plays
an ancient fable that carries them away
to a far off place
filled with vagabonds and dreams
while we all,
                      the all of us
sleep better
with beautiful maladies painted
over the canvas of our fears.

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