Porch swing life in
some other place
moon humming happy
bugs playing fiddles
pies cooling
by the window
Down the road awhile
in smokey midnight bars
torchy songs low and thick
red lipstick eyes closed
songs for someone gone
a long long time
Outside slow motion
saxaphone
wakes the blood
sends foggy feet
to the magic house
yellow glow windows
Strong souls there,
souls so big
they never die.
Dreamstreet Man
drew that door
then walked through it.
You don’t know
he said
who’s the dream
and who’s the dreamer.
The air’s the same
The air’s the same.
It’s the same good
honeysuckle air.
