you’re minding
your own biz:
on a bus
in a café say
out walking
with purpose
somewhere
on your bike
in your bed
half awake
when seemingly out
of nowhere
there comes a bit of a tune
maybe a word or two
perhaps a whole lyric
you’re transported
it’s what music does
there’s nothing else
quite works this way
like you’re somewhere else
in time and space
when suddenly
you’re emotionally ambushed
by those few notes
those few words:
could be trite
could be profound
could be revelatory
could be cautionary
could be self-destructive
could make you choke
could make you smile
could make you cry
it’s what music does
Jeff Cloves
Painting Delmira Agustini
El libro blanco