The only sounds that can be heard
Amongst the cars and crickets
The scratches of writer's pen to page
and musician's pick to string.
FRONT PORCH JAM
Stoop Spiritual
Sing the night away
Remiss, fill the dawn
Bless You, Bless Us all
Foot taps, guitar strums
Lift away all the cares of the other world
Hair undone, blanket drawn tight
No need to wait for anything
They congregate trickling in slowly
Black cat strolls
Meandering by
At his own pace
At one with the night, at one with himself
The player sings his songs
Not for the approval of his audience
but for the pure pleasure of playing
the joy of music in the air...
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