DID YOU FIND YOUR WINGS?:

 

Mystery benefactor leaves gift of flight lying in the mud.

It’s a start, if a bit tight, feels less naked to go meet 

the sky. Snowed in soon, learning licks & tunes as Essex

gets quiet, muffled in White, begging sculptors to make 

black marks with sticks & rocks on the virgin canvas. 

Turn up the heat, put another pot of coffee on the stove,

turn the page & take the road. Listening to ‘STONES‘ on 

the excellent Rune Grammofon label lets the juices flow.

 

(K)