Sidewalk Violinist

A deafened ear over the years

has never stopped his dream.

Playing for cheers he can’t hear,

he sits at third and fifth by the street.

The torment of losing his wife

gives his music life—

that’s why he tries.

 

Bowing the strings,

he remembers her, ever so dear.

He would play and she would sing.

Memories fading, the resonance of life he feared.

His frail hands understand

his mistakes in music and as a man,

if only he can play for her again.

 

The crowd grows empty,

only a few dimes litter his case.

He gives the money to a nearby charity.

It was his last performance at this place.

He’s gone to heaven now,

where he plays his violin for cherub crowds.

No longer a sidewalk violinist, but an angel in the clouds.

5 thoughts on “Sidewalk Violinist

Add yours

  1. This was such a bitter-sweet piece; started on a sorrowful note but one of those pieces which leave you smiling long after you’re done reading…

    “No longer a sidewalk violinist, but an angel in the clouds.”
    Beautiful ❤

    Liked by 2 people

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