New Year Blues ( Four Poems, January 2017 ) By Randy J. Contents: New Year Blues 1. New Year Blues 2. Homeless Girl With A Guitar 3. Western Vacations 4. Your Gift To Me 1) New Year Blues Winter’s chill cocooned Far from summer’s beaches of fire. Blowing horns, tooting trumpets loud At New Year. Shining through isles of icicles Pretending I’m ice-skating across the backyard. Picking diamonds out of the snow. Pulling back the shades, There’s an old leaf That won’t let go Of an ol’ humpbacked branch. Sitting upright in my bedroom, I’m shinning a light Burning candles bright Like a window pane in the brilliant night, Light. Dark sky blues Yellow moon peeking through naked trees My breath rises in solidarity With January’s gray days of earth and sky. Ghost dancing with winter’s dead. Dancing by myself in my living, Room. 2) Homeless Girl With A Guitar “What’s up?” She was busking outside The Faith Mission Coins tossed in her guitar case On Grant Avenue’s downtown sidewalk. She said her name was Hope She’d been homeless five years on and off. “I’ve got a brother up in Cleveland. I’m playing some Ohio blues I wrote. Singing songs of freedom Where this street’s a stage Where my heart bows down Coping with life in the world. Longing for freedom’s Voices in the wind. I’m headed to Hawaii come winter With a pirate chest To bury treasure in the sand Of destination dreams And beautiful beaches hula dancing Part of me, out to sea.“ Her playing was inspired. Her voice was husky sweet. Her hands danced across the strings As powerful chords Painted colors in the air. I put ten dollars in her guitar case While passing traffic turned into an Audience. 3) Western Vacations ( Summer 1973 ) Monday 9 am: “Layla” by Derrick and the Dominos plays on Our car radio ( a ’68 blue Ford Galaxie 500 ). Dad’s driving, mom’s checking our luggage I’m looking at the map, letting my elbow rest On the open passenger’s side window. Moms’ hair is in huge hair curlers, Dad’s wearing that straw tourist hat. I’m sipping a Coke, tossing bottle caps Out the window as we roll down 70 west And Ohio fades into the rear view. Wednesday 3 pm: Amber grains waving in the breeze As the Rockies rise up from Big sky horizons plains. Friday Noon: Taking snapshots With my Kodak brownie camera At Yellowstone’s Old Faithful. Suddenly there’s the Grand Tetons, And there’s Howdy Doody, Little Annie Oakley, And Cowboy Bob billboards Wild west sunset motels. Custer’s Last Stand Along ribboned highways Lined with gas stations. Dairy Queen drive throughs In the land of the free. Land of the free, please tell me: What chance for justice Did Native Americans ever really have? 4) Your Gift To Me ( For Wilbur T. , My Life Partner ) Is all the times we played chess At Larry’s while listening to Jazz. Memories of kite flying in Franklin Park Art history discussions over Picasso and pizza Fried peanuts every New Year’s Eve All those third floor sleep overs With Herbie Hancock improvisations. Watching Doctor Who with your dog “Prince” Seeing July fireworks from your bedroom window That trip we made hiking Hocking Hills The loving warmth of your eyes Your smile filled with laughter and hope And the joy of just knowing you For another day. Your Gift To The World Is your passion for justice Your sense of fairness And heartfelt perseverance. Just like an African American Spiritual Making melodies wise, wise Never ever forgotten.