I love the smell of rain on the pavement
Almost as much as I love fresh cut grass
It takes me back to simpler times
Reminds me of chasing waves on the beach
Listening to Papa's stories on his lap
The lingering scent of his pipe making me feel safe
When I was still clothed in innocence
And knew that I could fly
Well, before that disagreement with the windowsill
The only pain I knew was scraped knees and splinters
Where death was just a word
And my cool whip helmet blocked all the world could throw at me
I always wonder what moment that changed
Was it the neighbors, with their needles behind a door I found unlocked?
The way they shifted from protectors to aggressors?
Or did it happen slowly?
Like a summer breeze teasing at the curtains enough that I could glance outside
The answer still eludes me, maybe always will
What I do know is that people hurt
That they freeze, they starve, they suffer
More than a few cry alone at night
I can't fix what's been broken
But I have two hands to hold you tight
I've got two ears that will listen to your stories
And my heart beats again for every one of you who has struggled
The way that I have struggled
The way we all do
And maybe, if we lift each other up
If we drink from the same cup
We'll build something better than these two tired eyes have seen
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021