It's hard to dance
when it's cold and there's no music

All you can do is wear layers
of clothes
'cos nobody takes you seriously
when your teeth are tapping like typewriter keys

Go down to the corner
for a cup of black warmth
bottomless and thick - does the trick
but, you don't meet nice girls in coffeeshops

So, you walk home alone
your feet leave craters in the snow
filled in before you take your next step
nobody knows you were there

At home, it is there
on the mantle

You love your baby and always will
ever since you put her picture in a frame

So clap hands
wherever you are
and think of cold fingers
on that old guitar

your heart is in your shoes
but your feet are cold
nobody understands

but, Tom Waits knows.

beautiful. i enjoyed it very much. i wish i could write something so poetic.

as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he

Lovely, Jay.
I'm still on a high after going to a tribute concert a couple of nights ago called "Tom Waits for No Man". Not as good as the real thing of course (i hope he decides to visit oz again sometime soon) but still three hours of bone-rattling music and heart-wrenching poetry. No one else can say it like Tom can.

'pretend that you owe me nothing
and all the world is green..
the moon is yellow silver
on the things that summer brings
it's a love you'd kill for
and all the world is green
balancing a diamond
on a blade of grass..'

r

Jay, A visual delight, thanks. jhs

So very lonely- I could hear the snow crunching under the person's feet. I loved it, Jay. Who, by the way, is Tom Waits? Is it a person??
Sarah

Nicely done, Jay.


Les