the concert

Sitting in a darkened audience, watching
a man
in a single shaft of light
cradling a guitar
and a broken voice.

the duet of disparate time-lines
—what was, what could have been—
on the road behind the concert house
three hours later:
two dark, star-lined highways
that crossed in momentary harmony,
thrumming through each other
before departing softly into the night.

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