I pluck a string. Low E.Baby girl on floor goes still.Rosebud lips round to a silent O. Low reverberation, ripples up and down my spinein male baritones. High E.Soft block slips from chubby hands.Eyelids flutter. We watch.The room fills with fireflies.Blink. Blink. Blink. A high trill, like  crystal notes from a water-glass xylophone,signals her joy. We watch.Fireflies shift intoa rainbow of electric butterflies. Baby trills a chord: eeee aaa ddd.We drink in harmony,effervescent fizzies tickling tummies. She makes the sign for more.My fingers dance over strings.Colors pop like fireworks and I laugh for her. ~Nara Maloneimage credit: blurred christmas lights by Dominick on Flickr It’s possible not everyone sees the…