You Can’t Plan Serendipity
<p>Kid about twelve or thirteen played violin<br />
With impassioned poise, entire focus on sheet music<br />
Resting on the stand near his best friend<br />
Waiting for his turn to busk at street fair<br />
To earn money for musical education —<br />
Performing background music for commerce<br />
Supporting their grown-ups, town, life.</p>
<p>Not one hour later, in a small-town diner<br />
Three miles away, but virtual universe apart<br />
From well-dressed, happy, gregarious shoppers,<br />
He filled plastic tumblers with precise drops<br />
Of perfectly formed ice with natural rhythm:<br />
Blazing fast shovel, fill, set on tray to carry<br />
High overhead through bustling, crowded room.</p>
<p>Two hours later, same kid scurried up steps<br />
Of town library struggling to survive on<br />
Shrinking budgets to fulfill its mission of<br />
Inspiring tiny ones to read, older ones to<br />
Wonder, explore, and think new ideas,<br />
Still others to imagine, dream, create<br />
What would never have been without them.</p>
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