Featured Artwork by Joe Webb

Wednesday, July 13, 2022

I’ve seen it all,

Cover your eyes, if you may.

But no, it’s July,

Who lied?

Now until fall,

I give it my all,

…that won’t be all,

Til’ my new call,

Pick it up,

That a string, I am,

Stricken flute,

Blowing for you,

Resting now,

.

.

.

From the vernacular of souls,

Chanting, it grows.

We called it—bamboo strolls.

Drums a beat, opening eyes,

In peace, we speak,

Each ear so pleased.

Thank the conductor.

It’s you, so…

Don’t seek.

-Budd