listens to the beats playin’ all afternoon…
don’t assume…she says, it’s all good, she says…
to the tune she hums, as she walks to the beat, beat, beats of her own drum….
like a track on vinyl, stuck, switches, jumps to the beats, you just floooow with it.
You don’t force it…you just goooooo with it....
everything moves in a mysterious rhythmic pattern…
their rhythms juxtaposed…it works, I suppose…for now....
at this time, his heart skips a beat, beat, beats to the words of his own drum-,
-sticks like gum to a shoe old ways can’t erase…
transfixed are the two rhythms,
sometimes finding themselves in opposition…
two opposing rhythms finding their ways to the notes….of the last lyric which denotes,
she beckons “…get right or get left…”….…
on replay, are of the days gone by, she now listens to the beats reminiscent, of a sweet, but somber tune, now playin only once this afternoon….
