Where the Bluegrass Grows

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sun, 26 Jan 2014
  • 1041 reads
6 comments
 
She hung-out in the shack on Deadman’s Hill. 
Sometimes she’d take her violin down from the shelf...
dust it off; tenderly, tune its strings, and resin its bow. Watch
the daylight fade...a light that was all moon
and mist.
 
Couldn’t play...not anymore; fingers 
gnarled and twisted with age, and arthritis...like
the Lightning Tree on the ridge – two branches left, 
making a V sign at the sky...at some or other
person’s god. 
 
It, too, had seen better days...
a victim of life, of the big storm 
of nineteen sixty five;
 
and then, there was him, of course; 
his banjo still propped against the wall, 
between a rock and a hard place, but he’d never
put down roots, No siree! 
 
Said he’d drop by, now and again, but he seldom did, 
and how she’d longed to capture his roving spirit,
once and for all – pin it down, but gently, on her bed, 
trace its silhouette in soft, dove-grey 
with her fingertips.  
 
He used to say she had a magic touch,
with that there darned fiddle of hers –
envied her prowess, and her music...her 
Mendelssohn, her Brahms; her Mozart,
but he’d never let on – not
in a million years.
 
He weren’t that kind of a musician; 
not trained in classical nor jazz.  More 
an artist of the piss kind, she’d tell him
with a smile...always with a smile.
 
He, who measured time by learning the language
of the skies, just kept right on jamming,
until the end, where the bluegrass, 
bends, as it blows...anyway 
the wind goes.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual
Love

Comments

Submitted by Bee on

I just adored the description in the second stanza, and the last one is beautiful. You really bring out the personalities using the differing musical styles, Tina. Not sure about putting resin on strings, but I loved the poem - especially that last stanza.

 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hi there, Bee, and many thanks for reading, and for your thoughts.

Years ago now, I played the violin (for my sins)frownand used to dread putting the very necessary resin on the strings and the bow because it used to, and still does, put my teeth on edge.

So very pleased you enjoyed, and I hope your Sunday is proving to be a sunny one.  It's been tipping it down all day here.

Tina

 

Submitted by Sooz006 on

Gorgeous as always, Tina. On form girl. 

 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Sooz...and hey, it's great you dropped by.  Means a lot you took the time and trouble to read this one.  Appreciatedsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Your poetry always amazes me Tina,  how you tell a story with such ease.

I so enjoyed reading this one and wondered if it was about a real person?

By the way...I loved the picture and the title.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, so much for noticing the title and the picture.  I took it in our field about five years ago now, and played around with the colour a bit, I must admit, when I posted itsmiley

The poem is about someone I used to know, as a matter of fact, many moons ago.  

Pleased you enjoyed.

Tina