The morning chill gently
Brushes the hair from my eyes
As the low thumps on her guitar
Refresh my soul.
The tempo quickens;
My pulse playing follow-the-leader,
And although hours and days away from her stage-
I see her.
So real-baring her heart
Perfectly unable to hide the
This-is-where-I’m-at explanation of her life.
While others might cast strange looks
Upon her when they first see her,
With experience, they understand…
They appreciate…
They respect the bravery in her openness.
So with my car window wide open
And my mind playing follow-the-leader,
Warm-colored leaves wave me through their gauntlet
As I reach for my sunglasses.
The fog has cleared-
The sun is bright-
Erasing the chill
Life tends to offer.
The lyrics speak truisms…
The metronome still hits
Left-right; left-right; left-right
With
Or
Without me. -es-
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