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Mar 22
Sunday morning silence
Like the eye inside a storm
The street was empty, vacant
This would be the brand new norm

The windows all were shuttered
The doors were closed up tight
No one in Cy's doorway
To recover from the night

The church doors were both open
A note pinned to the door
The back, open to the alley
The note, "pray" and nothing more

Giannis, door was locked up
Joe was sleeping in the back
A note said "order through the window"
The window, open just a crack

The bar was also locked tight
A note said "coffee, but no beer"
"yell through the broken window"
"Don't worry we will hear"

Broken Spines had in the window
A large note for all to see
The note said "Cooking up some chili"
"Come back here around three"

Cy came in the back way
Taped his note up on the door
"Don't worry about paying"
"Call if you need more"

The street was still in motion
It had life, but none to see
Today, and for a while
The street folk lived for free

The city closed the main roads
The street, forgotten to most folk
The old man, sat on the curbside
Looking up, he lit a smoke

People ordered up their coffee
Got themselves a bite to eat
Stood in line outside, all waiting
Social distance...now six feet

Most folks on the street now
Lived above their stores or near
The street was still in action
Strong and silent, cloaked in fear

While life was now adapting
A sound, blew by upon the air
The Bluesman, oh so gentle
Was singing, but, from where?

The alley by Gianni's
Was empty, not a sound
But, still there heard the music
With the singer not around

The music, it got louder
The wind brought it to the street
The stores opened windows,
To hear the Bluesman's vocal treat

It took some time to figure
Where the music was relayed
He was on Gianni's rooftop
He just sat up there and played

A special Sunday concert
With stops for "medicin" now and then
Brought the street folks altogether
They were one now, once again

The Bluesman sang The Beatles
He sang U2, he sang the Band
He sang all the Guthries
He sang about the land

He sang of inspiration
Of not being all alone
How we were in this together
His message simple, inspired tone

He sang songs that got you dancing
In the stores, that's what they did
All alone, but, with the Bluesman
Dancing like a little kid

Some sang, but no one heard them
They sang loud and didn't care
They were exactly like the Bluesman
Singing proudly to the air

He sang for near an hour
Folks below yelled up their praise
The Bluesman brought The street together
In the most beautiful of ways

He finished up by singing
Two songs that made this right
He sang "Imagine" by John Lennon
Then he gave them "Silent Night"

He made his way down slowly
He was older than he was
He did this for his people
He did this just because

People started singing
You could hear it all around
But, the Bluesman grabbed some chili
Found his tent, and hunkered down

Inspired, I would say so
That is just life on the street
A group of flawed, broke people
You'd be lucky should you meet

A family, but not really
They were one, but, many too
No one here is really special
They are all like me....and you.
Roger Turner - Poet
Written by
Roger Turner - Poet
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