by Steve Gaines

my grandfather is both real to me
and a ghost I never knew
an old man
and the young 19th century “adventurer”
he used to tell me about
over cups of black coffee and camel cigarettes
he had to sneak out to smoke

there was a picture
that told the story…
the young footless nomad
with his cornet and the look of leaving again…

the picture sings still in my own sixty year old memory:

Continue reading → A Cornet on the Wind