Music beats the mud every-time;
Jazz Fest in the mud
Woodstock revisited?
I guess.
Wasn't there, but
I imagine
Wearing boots.
Stomping in the Muddy Waters:
Yes, Chicago to N'orleans..
The beat's in the water..
It reigns on the brain;
Sounds, beats, stomps:
Miles whittled down to inches
Beneath the booted foot,
Hymns of praises and misery,
Beaten down into the ground-
Meshing the sounds.
Back into the Mother
Where her heart beat
Is revitalized.
Her strength renewed
She rises up through the
Bare footed
Child like and ready to swing.
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