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For Art We’re Still Alive

Prose poetry for the color blue

The last guitar strum reverberates on chest and lung and heart moving of you and through you. I believe in acoustics that leave behind the blue light embers before the encore; the spotlight on an empty stool golden in anticipation.

I believe in the fourth row, the background noise, the smell of people united in music, intoxicating sounds…



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Samantha Lazar

Poetry, fiction, and essays in celebration of being a Mom, Wife, Educator, Writer, & Lover of Life.