There is whistling
There is drumming
Who is humming in between?
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The sound and the music of another world, another culture lingers in my mind.. I like this very much. Glad to read you again, my poet friend. Fond regards, Sandra
Between the in breath and the out breath is the place between - where all is bliss. Perhaps this is the same place that hums between the whistling and the drumming. This is a most attractive poem where the words become the music, the drumming becomes the swaying and the trees speak. Your title is perfect and your final stanza sizzles. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥