"Musicians In a Bar" Painting by Crawfurd Adamson

Behind Bayside Tavern Barbara Daniels Must I choose? Then I want the moment after music, not bass notes pounding through walls nor a singer torqued by pain. I prefer the heart's replication like cutouts shaken from folds of red paper, memory chiming, glory around me like a bell. Distant winds thrashed these waves into gaudy foam. Supple light gives the water blinding beauty. The junipers smell like gin. I'm lucky to believe in beauty— dead cedar worn to heartwood, wet feet on slipping sand, your skin that smells like mint.

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