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Banjo Player

Time it was...when the old banjo player
     held sway, reigned and ruled the day
in our mountain village that was
     overlooking the bluish bay;
when he set the mood and sped up
     the tempo of every fiesta
with the magic of his music
     and his sweat-soaked, red bandana;
when lovely ladies swarmed and swayed
     around him in a joyful dance
with the men envious yet themselves
     falling in the same festive trance.


Time it is...when the old banjo player
     is out of time, out of place
in our mountain village where all 
     moves about in a much hurried pace;
when folks rush and run to the ticktock
     of the impatient wall clock;
no time for old-fashioned merry-making
     for strangers round the block;
when lovely ladies wearing i-pods
     and headphones just dash away,
the old banjo player sighs and blinks
     at another passing day.

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