For Stevie Ray Vaughan
Today is a day like the old blues song ringing in my head so recently made famous by death.
“The sky is crying.
Listen as the tears roll down the street.
The sky is crying.
Listen as the tears roll down the street.”
My thoughts run like the muddy rivulets outside
here in the shop where I work, sheltered from the rain and warmed by a fire.
April 16, 1993