CoffeeShop Blues: 2015 Traveler's Edition - Page 57

Jeremy Frost SUBWAY SWING Subway station busker blows his clarinet at dawn. His case holds scant donations. People pause, but move on. His melodies are timeless. His breathing circles smooth. His audience is sleeping… Musician finds his groove. He be-bops up their morning As they scurry to the train. Tiled walls echo his verses, Tiled floors his scat refrain. Supper money puddles deep as trav’lers gather round. Coins a silver torrent rain. Scrip flutters gently down. When rush hour crowds begin to thin and hoard is hid away, when lic’rice stick is safely stored, Our student starts his day. currently appears in scribbles, 57