Without You

image borrowed from bing

Without You

“In your music you’re trying to play the truth of 

who you are--the reason this is difficult is because

you are changing all the time.”--Charles Mingus

Piano speaks, fingers dancing

on the black keys,

sax responds, squawking 

in every tongue, 

as the drummer finds

the heartbeat, keeping

the music on its feet,

in my buds, punctuated

by guttural gulls

and callous crows,

perched among them, sitting

on my driftwood throne,

hands deep in leather pockets,

red scarf ends flapping gently

in the cold breeze, as dark waves

crest, high & harsh, pushed

proudly by brother wind,

scowled at by sister gray skies,

there

near your cabin

reflecting raw in my Easton 

diamond flare sunglasses,

fingers popping,

head bobbing,

right foot tapping the air drum,

your compositions soaring

like blue heron across the horizon,

your creativity

shaking the wind bent trees,

stirring up the pebbly sand,

belting the beaches,

holding up the island’s britches,

preventing it from sliding back

into the slippery Salish salt,

certainly you know,

somehow you understand

that without you

we can never find

the other shoe;

without you

we are conflicted

as to what to do;

without you

even the sky refuses

to be blue.

Welcome back

song lady;

we dearly missed

your counsel,

your guidance,

your eyes

your heart;

and though the seabirds

were not silent,

the waves were far from mute,

and the wind remembered

how to howl, it all simply

lacks harmony without

your music.

Glenn Buttkus

December 2012

Posted over on dVerse Poets MTB

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