Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, May 2, 2022

Sonnet #350

 Late night, restless, I listen to music and drink

Too much, remember when I thought I might

Be a musician, but the stage was never right

But the song flowed and I felt the vibrations sink

Into me everywhere I went, I felt the wind howl

I felt the birds screaming out their flutter hearts

I could have been, perhaps, so I listen to parts

Of albums that I wish I could have sewn

Into the fabric of your heart, and maybe 

Regret a little that I walked away, stepped back

And found another way to sing — we will see

When I am dead if god permits a bit of slack

To let me forget the feel of songs I never wrote

That sit on tips of tongues without a hum or note

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