A copper colored guitar’s
slung across a drifting picker’s back
He walks upon roads of old cobblestone
As the night soon fades to black
He is well on his way to where he needs to go
He’ll be there by early dawn,
then he’ll jump, jive, & jam
with all his friends, that’s the plan
until the day once again is gone
By: J.N.R Dutton
The Poetry Of J.N.R Dutton 