Behind him in the shadowy corner
dim lit stage and a guitar coaxes a steady melodic message
drink up – have another one
she’s gone – your fault …all your fault
people shuffle in and out…some whistle and clap
at the music
the jazz guitar
depressed and lonely he stays and drinks
a friend drops by – who owes him a saw buck
asks for another – and a drink
mind decides to drift inward to the songs
whispers of dream clouds and beach days…sea shells
good woman and good whiskey
money to burn…
the dark corner stops playing- Â silence is deafening
still he stays and drinks
soon the break is over and the jazz heats up again
until dawn ….he leaves
until tomorrow…
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