foot steps following one heel, one heel down the street downtrodden floating detached lost
a call came from a wind maker on the street a stirrer of emotions a sorcerer whose only game was that of creation
I watched the draw and pull of the strangers into his gravitational field
tendrils of invisible allure wrapping around shoulders ankles of passersby as they froze captivated by his moth-and-spider web of alien, archaic sound.
in the aftermath of my escape from his forcefield
I sat on a bench carefully attempting to tuck the edges of my being back inside my body
so to join the rest of the anonymous collective fleeing from the ancient difficult feelings he had stirred from the greater universal melting ***
no longer recognized in this Cold Age of Chrome and LCD screens.
copyright FHW 2011 A.N: if you have the opportunity to experience what didgeridoo sounds like live, I would strongly suggest it.