1998 - Trail of Broken Beer Bottles?

1998

That trail of broken beer bottles

Will lead you to my passed out body

On a city bus bench

On the edge of a boisterous sunrise

As the beggar plays his wooden guitar

He does not attend Church this Sunday

He stands outside a store

Where my body lays near

He is old and slightly shaking

He remembers his castle and young wife

She used to wear a red rose in her hair

That resembled a single starburst

That could light up the entire galaxy

With its vibrant shimmer

He remembers her dark eyes

And how they shone as they met

Secretly in an aristocrats garden

And vowed eternal love

As the gathering of people around them

Disappeared in the glistening

Of their hearts pirouetting together

He opens his mouth to sing

Each gentle guitar strum

With his ancient fingers

Is bigger than everyone

That meets him with indifference

& pity

Each sung word

Carries her memory

In his hushed breath

His eyes beaming with years

Of tears never uncurled

The wind carries those rose petals

She wore so majestically in her hair

Into his soul

He can sense her scent

As his voice sings to her elsewhere

He sings only for her

The spears puncturing deep

The microphone crackles

As his words become bolts of lightning

Inflicting a sense of loss

As my head lifts up from the cathedral of washed up dreams

His voice carrying me

To follow the busted beer bottle glass

Back to the home

Where I dreamed of meeting a girl

With a flower in her hair

That could make me sing forever

Just with the celestial fireworks

Of her slowly materializing smile.