Another Poem

The Song of the Fiddlerby, Matthew T. Borders The fiddler of life played a tuneHim and the fiddle of life under a harvest moonHe played a lonely song, the one of the deadIt went through the valley and into my headSo I sang along with the fiddler's song The song swelled and found another manAnd he played the drums of the landThe song swelled and found yet another man upon a knollAnd he played along with the guitar of the soulTHe fiddler, the guitar player, the drummer and meHad a song that music couldn't seeWe played a verse and then two moreEven better than beforeBut soon we realized the meaning of this tuneAnd we wept with the fiddler, under the harvest moon