Steel gray cotton balls hang suspended
Sky blue sky accents each ball
As the distant sun inches up
Realizing the roosters call
An acorn looses its hold and falls
Lands on the roof or barn
One ping upon shingled roof top
Shrill squeal on barn tells yarn
Dampness and cool opens this fall day
There's stillness undefined
Life seems to move slowly forward
Good and evil seem intertwined
Willie’s boys are running scared
Wondering how their lives been spared
Don’t want to end up dead and chilly
So they squeal on Little Willie
Poor Willie’s now a jailed felon
Pissed at all his boys for tellin’
Details about brother Dave
Buried in a shallow grave
Willie said he didn’t do it
Knew no grave or what’s into it
But the weapon when they had found it
Had Little Willie’s prints around it
Willie sits now on death row
Waiting for the final show
For Willie had no alibi
The jury said this boy must fry
I guess we can now end this tale
With Willie lying there in jail
No need to write the final verse
With Willie in a long black hearse
for Miranda lambert's contest - Behind Bar Blues 2nd place finish
5/26/11
I always liked the Little Willie poems of my youth and the picture in the contest
made me think that a "Little Willie" poem style would fit and probably has not been
done by a lot of the current poets.
You squeal on clarinet
I scratch on violin
Difference between us
Is paper thin?
In Plato’s cave
I crave your flesh
Your shadow is all
Desire can save.
You squeal you say
To me music play
I scratch all day
To you I pray
These words we change
Inked art to begin
Inscribe loves mind
On my paper thin.
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