Blues singer

Poetic flakes and falling leaves

words to dust or mud.

Equal parts light and confusion.

Written read remembered forgotten.

Real like love, hate and fear.

We tell ourselves and others

the way it is. But maybe not.




Then this blues woman

twisted at the mike

surrounded by taxidermy

and beat, squeezing body and soul

into every sacred breath.

Semi-dark in the Whitetail Tavern

50/50 draw on a Friday night.

Far too pure for words like these.




2 thoughts on “Blues singer

    • Jean, she was absolutely amazing. Not sure I have ever seen someone so embody their music. We make it to most of the shows that the Blues Society put on. Almost always unbelievable talent. The Whitetail Tavern itself is quite the place to behold…

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