Friday, October 6, 2017
Georgia
A number of old men stood in a
Circle and sang by turn. I was
New there and stood aside. I knew
Them all and was surprised they
All could sing. Some were good,
Appropriately supplying the
Lower ranges, tenors handled
The rest. Even those who weren’t
Good took their turns and were
Pleasing to hear since I knew
Them. I could take my place
In the next one, knowing
The words; yet knowing I
Wouldn’t -- not willing to join
This singing. I would sing a song
Entire though on my own. All
Those old men smiled as they
Took their turns, and went on
Smiling their joy as the night wore
On – finally leaving as they ran
Out – their last song fading.
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