All her life was percussion,
deep bass thumping in her chest.
There were times she spent abroad
that left her eardrums buzzing,
nights in strange, lonely places.
There were glimpses of sunlight
but then she was on her way,
a cobbled road back home to rest.
And if each dreary afternoon
could be just a little less acoustic
and a little more ringing brass,
she would know which melody
would lead her closest to the dream
and to rhythm's smooth embrace.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Middle Brother, Million Dollar Bill
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