and all the ones
hurrying to New Year parties
with cakes, balloons and fireworks
didn’t notice a raven-haired flutist
playing Jolivet near the underground

but she didn’t really need
to be noticed by anyone.
immersed in daily celebration
of seasons, symphonic winds,
of how particles of earth merged
with harmonies of stardust

giving thanks
to those who stopped to listen
and giving thanks
to those who didn’t.

simply melting
the soft of darknesses
into a melody of night