The Bunker, with Karl Broadie

 

For Karl Broadie,

See how he goes, lightly, among the golden shades of fallen autumn leaves

Seeking out the meaning of his soul through the marrow of his fleeting human being

Words like wandering stars tracing graceful tangents and ellipses

Conversations overheard in bars, late nights, cars and stolen kisses

The heart’s precious melodies and cadences live in his memory

The beauty of his song eclipsed only by his grace and humanity

See how he goes, brightly

©2016 Bill Hunt