Lights of night
blink like
stars there up on the
hill of Rivertown
where music
rolls fat down to
waters edge soaking ears
into smiling willing souls
as they cool tired feet
in the muddy dark silky
quiet currents flowing with
the power like the jazz
rushing down to them
from on high like morning
when arms and legs
stretch hard shaking sleep
into awake as the song
helps you kick the blues
right out
the door.
Roger Singer 