I learn to find the beat
through rhythm of blues; old, soulful
in early morning hours, when Papa plays
his acoustic, i snuggle against his lap
with scent of pot cascading over
almost dawn hours he keeps
the beat with his foot, jams into his
reality complete with guitar slide
his face, living passion as life
moves to sunrise; he finds influence
stolen in early morning moments.
I find no voice in scent of charcoal over
summer days Mama stands, perches
on falling back porches, making due
with handle-broken old stoves
propped with a stick, preparing
evenings to the beat of The Eagles
voices of her fading autumn breathing
overpowering waft of Coors, cheap burgundy
her voice, muffled against the cloth
of cheap dollar store diary, she knows
no music could ever attend.
in the moments I blend, together, between these
two unfounded dreams, molded through
reality, circumstance, sunrise suggestions
and early morning hours blend not to be. ___
Jessica Evans is a 30 year old writer from Cincinnati, Ohio. She is the author of innumerable poems, short stories and an unpublished novel. In Columbus, Ohio she is an active participant in the local writing community, both as the social media intern for Evening Street Review, as well as a member of Salon, a poetry group part of Pudding Magazine. As a current student at Spalding University, she is in active pursuit of her Masters in Fine Art, Fiction. Interests outside of reading and writing include yoga and running.
