practice

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practice

I spent the evening
singing harmony
with a pick-up gospel choir—
songs I didn’t know
parts I didn’t know
offering me the
gentle reminder
that listening comes first,
then you sing.

Peace,
Milton

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4 COMMENTS

  1. It certainly has a nice ring to it! [reminds me of a poem I wrote once — one of the 5 or 6 that *I* remember as being quite good, even to my over-analytical extra-critical self-deprecating Self — that started out with “if feelings were first/ then who [& how?] did the naming come about?/ & who/ was there/ to listen to/ the names?”

    You’ve been on my mind quite a bit lately, Milton. I surely miss the times we found to hang out, and I would rejoice to spend some time with you, as our time together always felt to me like BOTH of us walked away with our spirits lifted, or (at the least) we parted ways a little lighter confident that our friendship blossomed in the knowledge that we tried to take some of each other’s burden. I sense that you would welcome any “burden carrying” that your friends could arrange — wish I could be there for you, ol’ buddy.

    Just know that there’s at least one Atlanta-based “best read line cook I know” who is periodically praying for you, always with a smile on my face.

    Much love,
    Mitch

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