The Banjo

If I could call
My friend
I’d ask first
About his breath and the whether there
Was mint in the air
That he couldn’t help but still discern, despite all that was on his mind
And about the heights he’d seen so far this morning -by the way,
That magical-calm-of-a-song you’re playing in the upstairs background 
Must be for me
I’m glad you called

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