Glory Days

A night spent with the soundtrack of my youth, grinning as my hand kept finding my heart. Kicking me hard in the nostalgias, the dreams of days long past catching the light again. Chords of last century when we were all first playing at becoming adult, chasing dreams and music and magic words, locking down love that would last a lifetime.

Suddenly tonight I was there again as the pit surged towards me once more, held still as it knocked me from my feet in the best possible way. Caught by those who come from a time when people you didn’t even know saved you from being flattened. The music still stupendously loud and wonderful, the bass shaking my bones and the drums hit harder than they ever seem to be now.

Misspent youth is a glorious thing. To taste it again all grown up is sweeter still. Its scent is untrammelled possibility. No limits. The burning an old friend but the understanding of it a new acquaintance. A love yet to be held, winking sweetly at me from centre stage and promising me the world. Music to my ringing ears.

Words and image c. Kerrie Basha, 2018
Thanks Tumbleweed