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
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.