They arrive at gigs without roadies
or rigs.
The
setlist is packed full in the throat.
The
stage is the wire, the limb, and the leaf.
Lovingkindness
is preserved
in
full measure as is belief
in
the aura and shine of the heart.
From
the birch I watch the man
standing
alone on the street,
the
one who is writing this poem
and
so prone to forgetting his part
in
the song that is always playing.
But
there is hope for him yet.
~William Hammett
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