In Defense of Grady Little

this gentle woman
only met minutes ago
on a beach on a bay
giving waves away
this recently released compact disc
ashore comes sound advice 
by way of bright creation
like seaweed she pushes
no lyrics 
just instruments, found noise
better known as field recordings 
and maybe she’s got 
what we’re all pushing
peace of sort

I feel sorry for prisoners of war
those trapped by their commitment to defend
and now married to a survival by murder
I feel sorry for the colorblind
never to love royal blue
the way I sometimes do
I feel sorry for the jealous
causalities to a chemical dependency 
that’s painfully wonderful
I feel sorry for Red Sox fans
on the eve of a Yankees World Series
and they blame their manager
I feel sorry for my vocabulary
expression frustrated like a canoe
of stapled together drift wood
I feel sorry for you when lying in bed
fatigued yet awake, troubled in thought
and I know we just met
by way of these words
on this page

so for a few hard swallows
for awhile, for the most part
the music will play
the waves will roll
the wars will rage
the light will shine
the lovers will hate
the Red Sox will lose
the words will come
and you will suffer
for awhile, for the most part
except for that moment
when you find that peace
of sort