Melissa K Vigna


Festival


Feel flows slow through the crowd onstage
Nothings been planned and nothings arranged
The music pours out through speakers
And the angels came at last to greet us
But the thrumming essence of the sound
Was so great that it washed them out
A hot day in August and the sun beat down
We prayed the rain would come around
Then the skies opened up and the cool rain fell
But the music hung on above all else
From my mind all else was shoved
At the festival the music fell from above

Submitted: Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Topic of this poem: fantasy


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