Live Music in the Night
I awoke this morning with music in my head.
Snippets and riffs from last night jangling
and dangling, misplaced quarter notes hanging
from synapses like clothes left strewn on the floor.
The tiny tintinnabulations telling me.
There is nothing as visceral, as primal, as right
as live music in the night.
Last evening, Bill and I attended the Chetwynd Coffee House – There really is no substitute for live music – no matter how good the recording or how wonderful the sound system – live music will always be an unsurpassably immediate and shared experience. I was also very pleased to have played a few of my songs for the audience and was grateful for their kind welcome.
Sounds like you truly enjoyed the Coffee House. I am so happy to see that you are still cranking out the occasional morning poem. Much appreciated, like someone unexpectedly and unprompted picking up clothes strewn across the floor.
That is probably the most creative and unusual analogy I’ve ever had drawn to my poetic endeavours… Thank you… I think. I’m not coming over and picking up your strewn clothes, you understand that, right?