Black Magic Woman
Listen to the way it starts
For more than any song,
It brings me to the 60’s
Where my young self did belong.
I’m with my friends, a Friday night;
The joint is being passed,
With not a thought inside our heads
Our lifestyle wouldn’t last.
The years fly by, those days are gone,
The memory still sweet
Yet it comes front and center
When I hear those notes and beat.
Santana’s on the stage,
“Black Magic Woman” being played
And I am years away from being
Nana, old and grayed.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
