Music Mountain Poem by Salvatore Ala

Music Mountain



for Alan Blind Owl Wilson

I'm going up to music mountain
Where all my friends have gone,
Where the air is pine-scented
And you're high all the time.

They say the mountain is tuneful,
You can hear the fire of the sun,
And at night the humming stars
And beyond them, God's blues harp.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: music
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