On the southwest corner
She shares her craft
For those who have ears to hear.
Six strings and the breeze
Carries her story across the busting intersection.
There is no amount of money
Anyone can put in her open case
Which could equate to her art.
She isn’t singing for money
Or for practice for a contest.
She sings for joy
For love lost and found
For the privilege to
Share.
[Poem #248]






Hey Jermaine! Just started reading your blog tonight and I love this poem. You’re right- it IS a privilege to share
Hey Sade! I’m so glad you stopped by and I’m glad this poem resonated with you. Take care!