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| Twenty-seventh day of August a clear blue Texas sky is crying for a native son ten years gone Down Texas highways and byways I drive, remembering a special man whose music evoked this land’s soul Brilliant guitarist with a soul patch concho-adorned black hat, flashy rings a beat up guitar that said SRV His songs pour out of the radio station after station paying tribute to the skinny kid turned legend I look at a drought stricken land yet as the song plays, in my mind it’s flooding down in Texas Every song resonates within me speaking soul to soul as music should two native sons in communion His music was always transcendent capturing his essence in every song his guitar channeling his inner fire Every performance was his very last every note he played his farewell he never held anything back A helicopter flies across the sky stirring thoughts of how he died the crash after his real last show Yet I know Stevie Ray Vaughan will never truly leave this land his legacy, his music remains Every time I hear his music the gift he gave the world his spirit speaks to mine His songs are about his life good and bad, but to me they are a soundtrack to my life I give thanks and prayers for a friend I never even met but who will always be part of me Copyright © Shadowy Poet 2000 |