OPENING A SOUL
With a gnarled, shaking and wrinkled hand
the old man swiped drool from corners of his mouth
on to faded, thread bare khaki pants
raising the mouth harp to his now dry lips
begins to gently blow into the piece
deep bluesy notes echo through alleys
a newly darkened cloud filled sky
Tears begin to roll down his leathery cheeks
as he pushes forward the rusting tin can
with his toeless work boot hoping
his music will open a soul,

Copyright Len Williams Carver 2014
myownheart.me