This poem is for Kelly. She had her artwork up in one of the galleries during last night’s art walk, and asked me to create a poem that might serve as a title for one of her pieces.
Some performances were long. We raged past the show and burrowed furiously into the night. Other performances were lonely and quiet, intimate, with soft conversation and relaxed acceptance of letting the flow be. On the last night, our voices rose and fell in play with one another, harmonizing at their own accord to the perfect pitches, intervals, frequencies.