Fields of Glass

There Is a rhythm I could never get Until then. Onstage, Watching the conductor, my page. I was set on getting it And I did- And the conductor smiles A smile so big it reaches to hell And back. Well, I smile back A smile so big It reaches to the ends of the Earth. And I play on And I laugh A laugh so sweet That it makes flowers grow Un-der-neath my seat. And I laugh A laugh so bitter It waxes and wanes And makes rats skitter. And I crescendo my last and final thought. Of whether to shift or whether to not. And as the piece takes its final bow I think about home And the fields I plow Fields of glass And fields of stone. Fields of brass And fields alone. But no, Not here. Friendship, Family, Call it what you will. But even when they leave, We are together, still. Together in art, Together in part, Together we make Something smart. Orchestra Strings Say what you may, Even when they graduate, We'll find a way.