What Happened To My Boy

When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest. - Thoreau

as a three-handed, backpedaling organist piped in quick and shrewd

hopeful groupies danced in short skirts, never in danger of being booed

eager guitars got in all their prosperous, limber licks

giving all those standing still their walking sticks

syncopating drummer never missing a beat

lead singer packin' a rod  and sweepin' 'em off their feet

the whole thing buoyantly dulcet and heavily sweet

at the well-heeled intersection where now and eternity meet

songful breezes trying to act coy

ushering unspeakable joy

as worried mothers sat home wondering

what happened to my boy

Author's Note

“In eternity there is indeed something true and sublime. But all these times and places and occasions are now and here. God himself culminates in the present moment and will never be more divine in the lapse of the ages. Time is but a stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it, but when I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away but eternity remains.” - Thoreau