Do we even know?
Two from one of my old notebooks.
Peter Green is gone. Dreamer, visionary, and otherworldly bluesman.
Just three floors short! And no elevator. Not any more.
The Palace at night. Memories from a far-off place, from a far-off time.
We have what we have. Others might dream of destruction. Hold on.
We must keep searching for our epic moments, and write them down lest we forget.
A few final thoughts as we approach the beginning of a new year at The Palace.
On every street, a wall of eyes in every color, asking all the right questions, refusing to leave until they get answers.
A couple of thoughts about time.