
Feelin’ the beat
Ink, with ink wash.

The musician
played guitar,
lost in the rhythms
and lead licks
while nearby,
the moment
came alive
on paper,
strumming lines,
loose,
fast,
pure folly,
whimsical,
with no sense
of what might
appear.

These orchids,
on display,
bloomed,
again,
this time on paper,
from a single line,
then more,
and finished
with a splash of color.