goat face freckles

               
Last weekend I attended, "Jam on the River",         
a concert in my home town held Memorial Day weekend.              
A semi-popular event, something to usher in summer.              
           
The line up had some favorites;                
bands that create the kind of space      
that makes me want to stake claim      
and get the deep digging done.      
            
Big man's got more moves than Rerun, and          
I was simply due to shake out my bones.        
               
So, after a chat with my funny friend;                
the one that shines through spores,              
I clocked into that late spring night                
and hauled ass double time.              
               
Then the rite.    
               
The 'right' that only drunken-monk,whirling-dervish types know.              
And the old allegiances are rekindled:                
Merlin making merry with Arthur,              
John Dee charting the stars of the Lovely Lunatic Bastards of Movement,              
too in love with unsung tug heavy possibility to waste time with words              
               
so we danced              
as magick does.              
               
I notice the Goddess's sense of humor in those twenty somethings              
being the beautiful berries in hula-hoops that they are              
               
I am a decade older              
have flown ten thousand planes of poetry to their feet              
and I have learned to stand                
learned to shake and rattle                
learned to rock the roll so well             
and I know how honesty works in the cosmic sense              
so I combust baby, like my thermodynamics might animate matter.              
               
They smile, act like the world won't end if their legs stopped moving              
and I extend a solar flare in recognition.