She lives in a Riff
That little niche in a song
between the genesis and the end,
The chorus and the verse.
She sits
In the moment after the key change
And kisses the Seventh,
That straggling note that
Clings to the absent sharp
Then quits.
That space where a tune
So carefully placed
Graces the line, hinting
To the epoch of an age,
Just fits.
That's where she is.
In the transition of newness
And repetition, in
the fringes of a melody
She gives
An introduction to a feeling,
A concept, a life, filling
Every rift in time till the notes
Become rife and leave nothing
But bliss.
The song ends
But she,

She still lives in a Riff