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Word(s) . Light . Life

Paradise City

3 Comments


Small miracle
In the muddy heart
Of life, chrome teeth bared
Glaring gridlock wheels
Spinning up streets
Crowds crushing tighter
Closing in like bad weather
Sun dogs hovering, grey skies
Showing signs of the times, & a guitar guy
Singin’ for years, never aging it seems
He flashes you a wild boy’s grin
Belting his songs out, for you to hear
To listen, above the roaring wind
Body dives, he’s like a gull after a french fry
He bends deep, rooted to pavement
A paradise city patch, all his own
Just a liquor mart an’ Starbuck’s
And songs, a few tips tumbling down
Starry change falling from the universe
His eyes tell stories, you don’t want to hear
About wandering times, and aching for truth
And days traded cheaply like bubblegum cards
Rock of Ages, n’ Elvis, Sweet Home in Alabama
Catching you, always on the fly
One more song, and you’re hooked
Until the green street light turns again
Then he lets you dance off the curb
Sun-dance hours fading fast
You hug his night notes closer
Oh, so lonesome you could cry

© 2011 S. Michaels
(Tribute to a busker on River & Osborne)
Five Star Notebook

Author: LightWriters

Life. Faith. Wellness.

3 thoughts on “Paradise City

  1. Susan, in your poem, is the guitar guy Jesus? I am just guessing.

    • hmmmm…. The guy in this poem is actually a real guy who has entertained on the street corner in my neighborhood for years. However, we never really know when we might be ‘entertaining angels’…do we….? As always, D….thanks so much for stopping by!, Sue

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