Greeting Hairballs,
I’ve been neglecting this lately. The hockey playoffs will end this week and I’ll
be back in form.
Don’t know if I’m being influenced by WhiskySteps, which isn’t
a bad thing, or channeling someone from down Louisiana way. Dreamed about a little girl with long,
stringy blonde hair, in a sack dress and bare feet running up onto a
porch. When I woke, I wrote this. I’ve already run it by a few of you so I
apologize for the repeat.
Safire Blues©
FMHorner
Grandpa’s been on the
porch all day
sittin’ on the steps
playin’ that old sax
says he’s got the
safire blues
that’s when the grief
gets deep inside
and squeezes so tight
you want to die
but you don’t, you
just keep on hurtin’
someone shot Uncle
Rob last night,
he was drunk, bustin’
up stuff and makin’ a terrible racket
but weren’t doin’ no
harm to people
I got the sadness too,
but don’t play no horn,
Grandma says we can’t
cry so’s anyone can see
so we hold each other
and rock
back and forth, back
and forth
Hairballs,
f
2 comments:
Beautiful. But soooo sad.
Loving this....
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