Head Raised

An eagle soars above

and lets the melody take its course.

It’s the first musician up

for the Dead Sam Stock Fest.

Light paces back and forth

he recalls every moment leading up to this one.

He picks up Sam’s drum

Pats its carefully crafted top.

His smile leaves his mother

in awe.

On the side of the Garden stage,

you can spot an old wagon wheel,

probably used from concerts years before. Tiki torches coated in webs

debris fit snug next to wooden 2x2’s.

sat inches away from the stage

let these impressions take me away into contentment.

Moments here seemed like an eternity

you never want to end.

As the first Dj is about to pass the baton,

he graciously gives remembrance to Sam.

I watch as Light's fist hits the sky

And a fast-moving train howls in the sunset.

A woman looking at eagles in the sky for Head raised poem
Image by Moorland1997

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