CoffeeShop Blues: 2015 Traveler's Edition - Page 68

CoffeeShop Blues SCINTILLATIONS I’ve traveled far enough down this old river dark with pollution, its only beauty the scintillations of the moonlight reflecting from its waters like fireflies escaping from a jar. I grab at those fireflies... They’ve been with me long enough I think they’re mine. They escape, glad to be free like sparks stinging the water and turning ugliness into beauty. I’ve known a few scintillations. They are brief flares screaming across the night sky... Once I sat alone at the picnic in ‘71 (ten years after Roger Maris broke the Babe’s record) I clutched the Most Valuable Player award feeling every eye on me whether they liked it or not. They say Roger Maris felt that way. It was the day I first heard you speak. Your voice sounded happy and the hotdogs were delicious. The colors of the clothing you wore that day Were like a garland for my eyes. I didn’t know you’d become my best friend. For some reason I liked watching your butt when we climbed trees together. And your smile as if you were so much older and wiser than me. I eventually understood. Years later we rode the Staten Island ferry and I couldn’t tell the stars from the Manhattan skyline. They danced about you like the eyes from a thousand generations watching. And the time in the Colorado Mountains 68