The Blues Musician

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A memory I have of walking down Beale Street late one night.

Submitted: May 19, 2008

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Submitted: May 19, 2008



The cool, smooth jazz
pours slowly from the avenue
coming forth from the bellows
of an old, blues player
leaning on the corner building
one wrinkled hand perched up
hooked to the keys of an ancient horn
the other dangling a half-burned cigarette

two clouds formed before him
two smoky gray clouds
of ash and soul.

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