Outside, a man on the one-wheel gyro
plays his guitar, the amplifier on his back
cranked up to something close to heaven
as he cruises city streets
Inside, a man hunches over the Grand,
communing quietly with chords, his fingers
gracing the keys, as the bass and drums
follow his musical lead
This poem is sort of for Open Write, but I did not follow the directions.
Peace (and sound),
Kevin