we were working hard to put in the show
it was a hot summer
i wandered back stage in search of a beer
and stumbled on an old blind man and his son
sitting in a corner on folding chairs
guitars across their laps
the old man turned toward me
eyes flat frosted gray seeing nothing visible to me
“howdy. you workin’ the show?”
i admitted this was so
“beers in the cooler. sit for a spell.”
i sat while the din of the stage hands
played background to our talk
of music, farming and family
he and his son played and sang a couple of tunes
i stood to leave
“you workin’ the show tonight?”
“yes, the follow spot,” i said
he laughed
“be pretty easy. i don’t move around much.”
that night the house was full
music filled the hall
people roared cheered applauded
i leaned on my high railing
spotlight fixed in place
a day to remember
for so it was
The Ace Hotel Notebook 