after sylvan esso
bass thump
guitar pluck
shoulders sway
finding a rhythm
synth pulse
voice cut through
press into
coherent cacophony
marinate
all together now
words flow together
more feeling then
decipherable lyrics
harmonies sneak
voices crescendo
another voice joins
three now
rhythm moves down
a body, to the hips
to tapping toes
funeral singers
funeral singers
someone must
bring the rhythm
once the heartbeat
stops
I wonder if there will be drumming and singing at Sam’s funeral Saturday.
are you hoping that there will or won’t be?