B.B. King In 1967
When we met, you were
So much younger; back stage,
You were sitting on a stool
With your guitar.
We spoke about music,
Your fans and travel
And how tough the road was,
How you’d come so far.
Even then you were a legend,
Though then your hair was
Free from peppered grey.
You possessed that infectious
Laughter that made me smile,
And long to stay.
Soon your second set began
And you retired to the stage.
You gave me a kiss good-bye,
And once again there was loud applause
As you began to strum your songs,
I heard happy fans scream and cry!
*A true encounter
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