“neighborhood“
a strand of slang
to grasp the meaning
of the voices within
these raised walls
old root under foot
sidewalk cracks bends up
hand prints in cement
mark child years
within these blocks
stories grown and told
a library of the neighborhood soul
for language is the life lived on tongues
passed down deeds and stories sown
dusk to dawn
father to daughter
mother to son
all along
the community bond
notes… this is one of those that escapes me as to why I wrote it, just one of those things man, inspiration in a bottle in a tempest in a storm in the maelstrom of my own personal weather system… something like that…
music? dirty blues man, dirty dirty blues, dishwater dirty blues that speak with grit and spit soul….
Shades of My Garden 