Somewhere, Mozart is playing
With dirt under his nails
And leaves in his hair
The sounds of his world want to leap out of him
And he wants to keep them
And share them
He wants everyone to hear the songs
Of the wind, of the rain
Of the rustling of the trees
Of the clock ticking in the hallway
And the dishes clanging in the sink
But, he’s tired
It’s a long ride to school
On a single dirt road
And who is going to teach him 
With no way to pay

 Somewhere, Jane Austen is writing
Notes on some loose leaf paper
From a tattered text
Under a dim light
And the scent of something fried
Clings to her clothes
Ideas she wants told foment in her mind
And just within her grasp
The thoughts begin to structure
Flashing so fast behind her eyes
She struggles to take hold
And shape them with her pen
But her mother needs her help
With the other kids
And there’s just no time for
And other frivolous things

 Somewhere, Picasso is working with oils
In his father’s gray metal shop
A full afternoon
Red and warm
After a long, blue day
He takes in the hues all around him
Saying the things for which he has no words
Wishing he could find a way
To make the world
See what he sees
And feel what he feels
But there’s so much to do
To get by
The sounds of the shop are numbing
And there’s just no use in drawing
When his hands are always dirty or in
When he’s hungry 

Somewhere was originally shared on May 30, 2020 at Phoenix Fire Press.