A poem for the last day of April

They say heat rises
I rise in the light. The fire outright.
I burn in your hand. Can you stand it?
In love and in fear—Can you hear my demands?
I’m calling the rain to put me out.
I’m cold in the same way. I’m told it’s a game we’re supposed play.
I’m old in the blue today.
I sold my heart to a bird of prey that flew away and turned into Sun…
And burned into One.


The Other One: He’s Weird


From the Rolling Stone Special Collectors Edition 2013 “Bob came from Atherton–he’s from that really upper class trip, his folks are really wealthy and all that, he was like the Atherton kid who was just too weird for anybody.”- Jerry Garcia

“Certain kinds of people require adventure in their lives…”

“…and therefore require a bit of adventure in their music. We were happy to supply that.”- Bob Weir of The Grateful Dead in Rolling Stone