The Player
From under a bridge I crossed came a most beautiful sound. I stopped, put down my guitar, listened entranced. I climbed down the bank to see who was the player. A man my age stood next to a...
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Soul Man
The deep raspy, mournful voice Unique, born to sing the blues Improvising, shouting, moaning Do anything, you’ve paid your dues Get down and dirty, soul man But please, just sing me...
Read MoreA Cool Breeze Blows
It was at Hawk’s apartment that the skinny young trumpet player from Illinois heard the words that made him sink into the overstuffed sofa. Hawk liked the kid, he liked the way he played,...
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