RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Details creep upon my mind as I ponder musical rhythms
at Buddy Stubbs.
Reminiscing with every beat and strum of the guitar
player, playing with my heartstrings in a morning
breeze, keeping time with an innate poetical energy.
Beguiling expressions taken to inner depths, foraging
abysses and caverns for hidden thoughts.
Rummaging around piles of ideas, fitting them together
into outfits of poetical rhythm, satisfying to my soul's
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