Blue jeans and guitar strings
strutting and strumming,
bass thumping Zeppelin
unexpectedly
after the mandolin sang so sweetly
the Les Paul wept chords and trills
into the night unfurling like a song,
pedestrians and flashing lights a jazz riff under the harvest moon.
Evening exhales so gently,
even my mangled heart
breathes for a moment
inside the skyline again.
*note: my friend Jamie got tickets for my husband and me to see Lucinda Williams and her band at The Carolina Theater in Charlotte tonight. Absolutely blown away by this show. No opening act, didn’t need one. If you have an opportunity to see this band, go.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
Intrusive rhyme bothers me, except as a weapon.
Intertextuality is my passion.
Formalist/ New Critical are my guiding theories.
My words are mine, not a robot’s.
MA English literature, CofC
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