The Old Time Fiddler’s rallied us,
Strumming their ballads in the street…
You put our love to music,
Making new heartbreaks seem upbeat.
We danced on skates to the music,
Played in an empty downtown garage,
George Jones echoing over Stockton,
From a third floor idling Dodge.
I often wonder what went wrong
Reflecting on those long past days;
Comfortably in a world removed,
Yet still missing your subtle ways.
Every song you wrote for me,
Left with you on the Greyhound bus,
Guy Clark lived a similar day,
(He wrote:)
“Sometimes the songs write us”...... amen
Everybody loves the songs that were popular when they were young. Do you remember that old song Roy Clark (I think was his name) wrote. It was called "Thank God in greyhound she's gone". I guess the bus made me think of it.
ReplyDeleteSometimes your poems write you, Mike.
ReplyDeleteDo you like Tom T. Hall?
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