Music

Music.
Spilling into the air,
Strained,
Broken,
Scattered to a thousand corners of passing memories.
To see.
To hear.
To feel with uncertain eyes and deaf ears,
Notes,
And parts of notes.
Melodies,
And parts of melodies
Spilling into the air.
Spilling into the air
To be lost in some vacant lot
For sale in the old part of town,
Back of Broadway.
Mingling with other sounds.
City sounds,
And sounds of silence.
Hidden dreams,
And revealing laughter.
A stranger,
Unannounced,
Walking through walls,
Exits,
And is gone.

This poem is from Collected Poetry of Thomas A. Ekkens—Early Works.

Above photo is "'White Boy' Blues," a line portrait of the author playing the harmonica, drawn by an old army buddy in 1972.