The music tribe.
Respecting each other in the pit.
All aubergine cashmere and scarves.
Lank hair.
And squinting eyes behind big glasses.
Looks of concentration.
Self-conscious throat clearing playing along with tuning up.
Their instruments play.
Drowning out the noise outside.
Their eyes read notes not newspapers.
They bustle with their cases from practice to practice.
Below the radar.
Bach's mass in b minor.
Swelling baroque lifts the cabbage and the polish of this school hall.
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