WINTER 2012:

 

I turn the engine off, parked up in the dark of early morning.

Watch the sun struggle to make any impression in a big sky of 

heavy clouds. Unloading my bag & guitar from the back seat I’m 

stopped by a curious sound. Standing outside the rehearsal room,

knuckles already white with cold, I’m rendered motionless, 

baffled by a strange sound emanating from within – laughter!

How can that be? I have no memory of ever standing in this spot

hearing that beautiful sound, yeah, there it is again, laughter.

It’s freezing, but I don’t want to change a thing, standing 

listening to the music of happiness, remembering that time in 

New York when rush hour was the most fabulous music I’d ever 

heard, knowing that if I moved a muscle it would blow way & 

never return…which of course I did & have never heard it 

since. So I stand there, the weight of bag & guitar like 

feathers lifted in the euphoria of the laughter of friends 

gathered together to enjoy making music. I step forward, 

pop the latch on the door, dogs bark, rush to greet me smiling. 

Warm air in my face, wrapped in the rich aroma of toast & coffee. 

Faces turn to greet me, happy, smiling.

 

“Hey, Karl!”

 

“Is this Iowa?” I ask, kinda dazed, like maybe I’ve stumbled in 

through the wrong door.

 

“No, it’s Essex” They laugh, believing I’m joking.

 

“Strange, I coulda swore it was Iowa”

 

(K)