The Shadow of Mila's Strings
by Michael Foley
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THE SHADOW OF MILA’S STRINGS For Mila Polevia I see the shadow of Mila’s strings pressed against the velvet lining his open guitar case like a door ajar saying I’ve just arrived but I’m ready to leave the lid is wide open ready to receive that request for a song written in ink so bold on a hundred dollar bill at least that’s the idea his ice breaking conversation always melted our hearts always fresh like the repertoire Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah or My Diamond Back El Camino dropped into a sea of slack key falsetto for once misnamed because the high notes don’t lie most of us come here saying nothing keeping to ourselves hiding inside the amplification so we let him carry the tune we don’t even understand the words most of the time—I keep asking myself what is this place I find myself where people are just trying to get by he looks out and sees us with our loss there on our sleeves our found here in our eyes if we disappeared he’d still keep playing what’s that saying just that he’s brought that too this possibility this chance that something between us will pick up another chord a vibration that’ll keep moving right on up the hill through the night into the dark under the starry sky I turn into the place called home and wonder is the soul inside or out am I the impression left when the lid is closed tight pressed down against my strings right now I’m feeling small my voice is so far inside I can hardly hear it so far I’m beginning to wonder if I understand what’s going on this coming together this coming apart don’t tell me the music is magical and the singer is only the messenger this is the crazy thing this coming down to earth half believing it’s not a dream what’s it going to take to get ahold of this connection business tonight it rained and we got closer closed those distances we call ourselves hey it was a taste in the end we paid our bills mine yours left our respective tips there on the wet tables and then it cleared we look up see planets we can name galaxies we can’t the crazy thing this looking up all those lines we didn’t understand Hawaiian or English it doesn’t matter inside all language there’s another language let’s just say we took our cells to the gig and Mila’s songs pressed themselves against our velvet minds |
