Campfire Music
Shadows flicker across the rapt face
of the bluesman with saxophone, flask
and a longing to wish on shooting stars.
He blows the nostalgia of childhood
memories—camping—all the boys:
because he had no alibi. Hotfoot,
went away to war and came back
different. Such a shame they all say.
Gramps, ninety-two, sharp as tacks,
can’t pitch a tent like the old days,
won’t sleep on the ground no more,
and Pops, who prefers a stool down
at Club Tempesta, where he can hear
his boy play. But the boy ain’t playin’
tonight. He’s rememberin’, bebopping
softly to the melodies of dark, thankful
for his wife, who embraced his restlessness,
knowingly told him Go!
Tobi Alfier is a five-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee. Her most current chapbooks are “The Coincidence of Castles” from Glass Lyre Press, and “Romance and Rust” from Blue Horse Press. Her collaborative full-length collection, “The Color of Forgiveness”, is available from Mojave River Press. She is the co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.sprreview.com).
Lovely.
ReplyDeleteTobi writes with the soul of the saxphone, the player and the humanity in the music and surroundings, I wanted to learn the Sax right away. Well, always have. Still, I would have been delighted to been in such fine company. Tobi has a way of telling a story, painting a masterpiece or bringing us an unforgettable image with just a few words. Brava.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your very kind words. I am very grateful that you liked my poem. Tobi
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