Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Death and Russia

My mind is on the media tilt-a-whirl and my heart is with the ones leaving me here. Somehow peace fills my soul. Music soothes me at some subtle, cellular level and new songs are lining up like Delta jets on the tarmac at Hartsfield.

Usually I wait for a broken heart or a new record. Now I write for the moon and for the birds. My heart is sound. I should probably not be the one to comment on the condition of my mind.

Oh, if only Wille The Shake or Chuck Berry were here to make this stuff rhyme!

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