In the jungle of the everyman,
an oasis waits
to still away the fairest mind
to quell the pain of yesteryear,
with rhythm’s ribbon evermore,
the truest feet, the cellar door,
that leads the broken man away from weary
and to the sweet unknowns
with his ‘sticks’ a swinging
and a slinging for the ‘we’ in all of us
The eddy of the drummer man folds the lines
o’er golden eras
to lead the way in beauty’s measure
in the honor row that holds the line
a man to treasure every era,
the quiet warrior on the line,
that towers over rivers time…
​
coke bottles
and
cracker jacks
sticky sweet treats
and
sparkling glass
childhood pleasures
simple and free
barefoot Sundays
sipping iced tea
skipping and jumping
on hot summer days
the late afternoons
for making up plays
as daylight fades
and darkness falls
I snuggle in bed
remembering it all
​
​