painting from bookladder.com

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Not a dime between us,
but when you sing to me
I kick off my Sunday shoes
and dance in the clay.
You make reverie come easy
with every blue toned note
calling through poverty
and the loss of family,
the failing of the community,
and the yellow ribbons
tied 'round too many trees.
You’re gonna be a star someday
the kind we wish upon
when the winter falls grey
and moonshine warms the night.
And I'm gonna say, "look there
that one with the twinkle,
I knew him once".
And the young'uns will giggle
watching me play harmonica
on pretend of wind
while listening to clouds
carrying your tune.
yeah, not a dime between us
but I suppose what we got
is worth more than I'll ever see.
I reckon you might be priceless
~even if only to me~