Jimi Hendrix

Looking down from my 3rd floor apartment window open onto winter night’s 

A streetlight below, its shadows - cold, stark

Wisps of snow dancing lightly on the pavement

pushed along by the bitter cold in what was otherwise perfect stillness

Clouds of icy breath, eyes transfixed, staring into the night 

Just a boy, thirteen 

A quiet sadness, a burning angst - alone in this far away country 

Alone in myself

The record on the cheap portable phonograph by the bed had just begun - Jimi Hendrix 
Purple Haze and the Wind Cries Mary
the first I’d ever heard him

3 am

my god 

nothing was ever the same again