lesson the wind out there is wild, son it gives the sky a churn the sea too, and our rough shore but waves they never stop make of your arms a cradle, son feel the way I stomp like the surf each dawn as we wake and the waves in time beat on just your thumb now, an open G let's rock to a steady strum let the strings resound as one while the waves out there still pound place fingers on the frets, son first and second, pointer and ring move from open to C for the waves crash and never do they hush hush, my son, hear that cadent thrum— beneath it all, the heart’s tidal turn a lesson never done so waves, beat on and sing beat on, beat on . . . first published in The Ekphrastic Review, 2020
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"the wind out there is wild, son
it gives the sky a churn"
Love this opening! The musicality of it. The liveliness of the word "churn" alongside common descriptions of wind and sky.