Inklings and instincts
insisted that he make plans,
house-husband days waning
and gaining in the confidence
that his music still gave credence
to his soul. Control no longer
an obstacle; collaboration
became his station. But it was
old alliances that jostled his peace.
So in a place, a secret space
he kept his adventure hidden
( a forbidden trek into his past)
A blast; a mania recreated in hopes
of finishing ones business.
Liverpool to New York looked bright
except for that one night,
everything was in plain sight.


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