Attuned

[Cousin Kil]

Hello Cousin-

First off, do not ever worry about "going too hard" on me.  I've  been retired over a year now and I'm old enough to handle it.      

I used to get off at the Federal Center SW station for many years, and it is one stop more to the Cap South station.  Most stations, at one time or another had a musician at the top, and I almost always tipped.  Sometimes I even joined in (over 40 years a harmonica player, AKA Mississippi saxaophonist).

That said, there is no one to tip in this particular piece, because the saxophone I'm referring to is the escalator itself.  More than once, I've thought there was a player, but the sax on the escalator was literally "within its gears".  Next time you're in DC, on the Metro, listen for that ghost sax player.  If you can't resist the urge to tip, just throw a dime over your shoulder...

Seriously cool how our poems are within a DC Metro stop of each other.  I went over to read your poem "Sitting Shiva", and sure enough, it's placed at Cap South.

The sparseness of my poem is (hopefully) intended to give it more of a  "ghostly" feel than a "nostalgic" tone (sorry for the cheap pun).    

Thanks for reading/listening,
... Mark

Mark,

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, now I get it.

It was probably that Cap South memory which tripped me up in reading your poem, hopefully it doesn't cause confusion with others.
I did truly enjoy this poem though. It makes me happy when work doesn't go to the point of overselling itself and says something small but compelling with so few words.

And this is ghostly, not only in its brevity, but also for me in its "deja-vu" effect. Very cool.

Mississippi saxophonist? Props, I'm a fellow musician (guitar, vocals).

Also, never apologize for puns when I'm involved.

Thanks for the read and I'll be sure to throw that dime,
Cousin