He is someone who hears music
everywhere
in subtle
lines of slumber and comfort,
in sensuous lines
of a special dance,
in crusty lines
of lemon tart
mocking mournful lines
of Monday Mondays
lingering lines
of game questions hanging in the air
articulated lines
of zee, dee deedum,
cri ti ci sm and orders in the court,
rowing lines
of rounds
black and white lines,
keys to sounds
a line
of us following on late nights of lines of sound and light
help lines
from nieces, pulling up or casting in for swirling nourishment
lines
of light blue water following a finger skiing in a pool
of lines
of conversations stretching out and around and through friends
and lines 
of minds
lines
of hearts
lines
of conscience

he hears music in a line traveling upward from the edge
of Karen’s smile

     - jean svoboda, july 20 2003