Who –
who
        are the wires attached to
those dangling strings must end on limbs
      loose now, but most times taught
bringing to heel those movements transposed
        imposed
by a handler at the other end
[rhapsody]

Who –
who’s joy are we seeing?
      the puppets joy can be inferred from context
          an elaborate event, well staged
  but just above their head a storm cloud of strings
like tentacles grasping from sea floor rocks;
    there is danger in this kind of truth.

Who –
who would concede so easily
    and not follow their suspicions to the puppeteer?
  Surely this rhapsody is theirs.
      they move the strings to the songs they sing
bringing the puppet to life,
  though when the wires die,
so too the light in their eyes
  for the mind within is troubled.

Who –
        who then is rhapsody?
    is it anybody or nobody?
        The mirage of a destiny we wish to manifest
from either end of those strings.