The Concert
It was a summery San Francisco evening.
Dressed in tight jeans, I was the modern mother
taking my daughter to the first and last concert of our youthful days together.
Though we sat back in the general admission seats of a huge amphitheater,
the excitement all around us was palpable.
The audience, mostly women, screamed with delight
each time we heard the first few notes of our heartthrob’s songs
exploding, immediately recognizable, from the speakers
strategically placed around us.
The sky began to darken as lights played upon the stage,
enhancing our idol’s chiseled features on the wide screen above us..
No longer able to contain ourselves, most of us were on our feet.
As the beat from the band pulsated through us, body and soul,
we became a mass of swaying flesh, uniting ourselves
with this enthralling performer in the only way we knew how.
Unable to stop, I let the music guide my hips inside those skinny jeans
as I stood there grooving to hit after hit after hit!
That night I was sexy, free, and forever young,
and I was one with them all
in pop rock paradise.
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