At the Carrboro Bluesfest

she brought her family,
I saw them sitting
near the stage,
the blanket in partial shade,
her husband sitting apart,
drinking a beer,
her two kids excited,
the young one dancing,
the older standing,
clapping to the beat
and Jen turning her head,
looking for me.

the sound system
burped, then settled in,
my check-check-check
found the speakers
and dialed them up,
each one pulsing,
driving, and
the bass did not
overwhelm.

B. B. King was next,
singing about some
midnight believer,
and I smiled,
remembering Jen's
promise, to meet me
near the bandstand
after her ride home,
after her husband slept.