Tuesday, September 17, 2024

Lucinda Williams (Folk Fest '24 poem #3)

she leans on the mic stand 
this woman who has endured so much 
and has little of her volcanic presence left 

still has that sandstorm voice 
and a loyal band that follows her anywhere 

as she sings you took my joy 
spitting nails in the air 
anger so hot like lava flowing from the stage 
this woman

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