Are most natural when draped in neon
smooth, gracious, tall and slightly bent
to the rhythmic
inhale
exhale
blue chords
of America’s music
pushed through the reeds
words raised to God
melodies sent to vibrate the floors
of lost souls.
Guys in hats with harmonicas
pipe their tunes
through metallic boxes
and are followed
through uncertain territory
trusted
because of the melody
because of the enraptured soul at the heart of it.
Guys in hats with harmonicas
look like conspiracies within
shady corners
where whiskey burns tongues
where “yeah, yeah, yeah”
digs you to the bone.
You know you’ve found THE PLACE
when you see a guy in a hat
with a harmonica.