Spooktown, 6 (280.)

Take me back to bluegrass country,
though I know that truly,
should I stuff bluegrass into my bones
and put a guitar in my hands,
bluegrass will go with me always.
There need not be any going back.
Just tromping forward,
head high, spine stretched,
vocal cords satisfied.
All the songs to sing,
and time to sing them.
Little messages that say
I’m here, I live, I love.

P.S. We are all notes in some cosmic composition. Praise be.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s