morning translation,
light has a language
that breathes
it stretches shadows
burns across carpets
bends buicks in shop windows
and lights faye wrays face,
my own portion
a partition of day
comes as townes van sings,
i smoke what i rolled
drink what i poured
fragments glitter skitterish
off the glass,
diamonds to the day
abstract punctuation to my thoughts
i think of voices
carried on this light
marching along on lung feet
into my mind
and everyone sounds like scott,
even james garner in his multicolored
mac concealing all of my yesterdays
and his genuine concern,
i need a buick to drive
to see if i can find
him my morning connector
that friend of early light
who now is silent
yet converses in my mind
Remembering Scott Wannberg a brilliant and talented writer who was a part of my world briefly but made an impression today would of his birthday and i remember
velvetmedia 
a lovely ode.
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You told a story with such beautiful lyrics that I can hear it singing in my mind. The light image is awesome! I like Town Van Zant. Sorry if you lost a friend of early light. It is a nice tribute.
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Scott Wannberg is a poet missed a sad loss to the art and the world and thank you
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What a tribute! Wonderful words, scattered and heartfelt. He must have been a great person.
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A great poet his work never conformed even created new frontiers and i find always great to read
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the light in this poem is lovely, bending around the buick, nice memory.
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“i smoke what i rolled
drink what i poured
fragments glitter skitterish
off the glass,
diamonds to the day
abstract punctuation to my thoughts” waste not want not, cool tribute !!
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diamonds of the day
abstract pinctuation of my thoughts…
really some pretty cool imagery in the whole thing, but those were the lines that caught me…
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