The Singer

Making his way
Up and down the aisles
Just he and his imagination
Honed
In the pursuit of happiness
Temporary.

Conversations abound
His melody cuts right through
To pockets
On to passing hands
Into his cap overturned
Slowly filling
With the cabbage
That never grows old.

His needle skips
(Several times)
Till his fingers snaps
Reverberating a time long-gone
But so desired
Till he jokes
Returning us
To the reality of his performance

He just needs a little extra change
For whatever is his urgency...
©2011clarencecbess