"I am a psychotherapist and former university English instructor, who is currently doing postgraduate work at Harvard Medical School. I have published a book of poetry-CONTEMPLATIVE PERSONA and a chapbook-SPIRIT ECHOES."
Out of
the void, a voice
of baritone thunder
broke. And ball lightning split airwaves
wide. An incandescent
flash: Son Seals
was dead.
Feral
picking fingers
frozen at sixty-two.
shut up, shut in a nursing home.
Gravelly rough, raw riffs
halted at the
crossroads.
Seismic
shock shook her faith,
shifted her footing, quick
silver. She felt herself backslide
and spin the radio
dial to blues
ditties.
Hungry
for verboten
devil’s dens, roadhouses,
and juke joints, she tuned out gospel
greats and tent revivals
to raise some hell
fire.
Gazing
backward over
her left shoulder, she saw
old masks and markers scattered like
salt in abysmal wounds.
Generational
symbols.
Facing
forward to wipe
her scars, to wrap her head,
she rhapsodized guitar legends
and lost youth. Love beads gone,
the bare moment
embraced.
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