Oil colour on canvas 48 inches by 36 inches. From my poem MUSICIANS PLAY NOT SEEING EACH OTHER IN ORCHESTRA.- Inside the cloak of an amused Musician Is a laugh at such a disguise, Strung in a web of evolutionary chime, Inevitably unable to unravel the woven puzzle In terms of scale. Seeing himself as a mote of dust in sunlight Putting on the show. Meshed in environmental scenario, Cast to read the symphony of subtleties He is strung into; Sometimes not seeing through the wings of the stage. Fed to feel out conditions Like a goldfish that breathes in and out A globe of the same water. Exposed into life the musician hides In all the paraphernalia of living, All so lucid. Having come through doors between legs To play dice in the arena. The midwives exchange the cords hanging babies out to try In this theatre of company. Musicians play, not seeing themselves in orchestra As pictures of our talent hang on the walls Of stage scenery That are the windows to view beyond. © C. English