Small Time Blues

February 20, 2008
By Baobao Zhang, Alexandria, VA

Lost in a drizzle of autumn rain,
lost in the spirit of ‘68,
we drifted away with the small time blues.
An old melody,
like slow creaks of a rocking chair
or distant howls from a southbound train,
found its way through our tangled hearts.
Underneath the dim light of our front porch,
I watched Willie’s agile hands dance across
his guitar to the count of two-and-four.
As his warm gaze locked into mine,
our voices, too, mingled into one—
and it lingered like a feather on the breath of God.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book