Pardon Me, Boy

I spent last night in Chattanooga, Tennessee

"Pardon me, boy, but isn't that
the Chattanooga Choo-choo"
People watched as we sang
on the banks of the Tennessee River.
We danced on the sidewalk with the setting sun
to the rhythm of clapping hands
and a far away sax, moaning through crowded alleys.

The city breaths at night
and pulses with the sounds 
of buskers, playing
for a few bucks and some coins.

The foot bridge is busy 
on a warm Spring night
joggers dodge tourists
and the locals ignore them both;
children lick ice cream 
and mom searches for the next wine bar,
while college students huddle under the bridge
and lovers, young and old 
are moved by the mood of the city lights.

Reviews

[Relic]

This sounds like the kind of place I'd like to visit. The music, the atmosphere...all good.

Nice work.

[James]

It's an awesome place. Thanks for reading

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the mood, yes...this music you speak of in this poems...this is the guts of what music really is...it's not so much soul music, but music from the soul.

i feel the rhythms and move my feet to this...

j.

[James]

Thank you, Jacob. You are right about the music. I could listen to those guys all night. Glad you enjoyed this.