A virus wounded the live performance,
the music that floated on a breeze
along the river, into the downtown,
filling the airwaves, filling souls
with a desire to dance in the street,
filling hearts with a love and peace,
in time, all wounds are healed of ache,
the show will return to the empty stage,
all will rise again for the performer
who's song was never wounded,
who's song was a cure for our blues.
Writer and photographer.