There is a little boy
Who walked a dirt road
It was lined with birch trees
He carried a cello twice his size
Dragged his feet
Kicked up a cloud of dust
Took breaks on big roots
Played out of tune melodies to passers by
Newsboy cap turned up
His only quarter a hint

There is a small girl
She has a bow on her dress
A bow on each pig tail
And her best go of one on her shoes
She eats cucumber sandwiches
While her grandmother
All eighty years of her
Drinks hurricanes and talks up a storm with the woman down the block
She learns words like “give a ****” and “lord knows”

There is a gentleman
Hat hung beside him on a nail
Sitting in a tire up porch top rocker
His snores hum Amazing Grace
The chair squeaks harmony
His leather shine tin is crusted from disuse
Never quite remembers much
Still knows mama’s cooking by smell alone
He leaves voicemails to busy grandkids

A cloud of dust passes by the old man
Tickles his nose
Causes him to sneeze so hard he wakes up
Mama and the little bow haired girl
Who giggles so loudly the little boy picks up his hat and runs