To the Singer in the Red Wool Vest
You stand on stage
in front of me
Your eyes - two stars
just singing
Where are you from?
Which planet, darlin’?
Your voice - old soul
still haunting
You look around
shy yet so strong
not knowing who I am - you said
I'm shrinking
You stand on stage
in front of me
Your eyes - two stars
just singing
You smile, then whisper
not knowing who I can be
the show goes on
still dreaming
Lady Margot
Yesterday, I witnessed an incredible live concert. I was mesmerized - by the performance, by her voice. I found myself writing these notes:
To the singer in the red wool vest—
Your eyes, are they sad?
Who are you?
Where do you come from?
Old soul.
Later that night, I wrote this poem.
You stood there, surrounded by people. I was unsure whether to approach you, to express my amazement for your performance. This is my way of doing it.
With gratitude,
V.
Feburary 2025
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