ABC Poem

Music of the 1930´s

by 25AnanyaD

All

you can see is the bent backs over a vast sea of wisps of wheat that are struggling to support their bare bodies.

But when the we gather for music we sit on our rusty and rickety chairs and sing

Crackly the voices seem but they are music to our ears, to hear Pa sing while he strums the guitar was rare.

Determined to give us entertainment he switches from guitar to fiddle, back and forth to create a small blues swing. Ma wipes tears from her face , thinking about how hard he worked during the day.

Everlasting the music was, though it was only a few strums. In my ears the music was there but a whole new realm of music lept in left to discover.