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He's Got His Blues Hat On

by James Zealy

Blues calls his name
Top hat in place
Of a West point cap
Military's got his future
The blues has his soul

Black hat sharps and flats
White keys dance ying yang
Music is his sanctitude
Army has punched his ticket
To a place far from home.

Pain dances from his finger tips
Disguised by a blues melody
Familiar cords are a certainty
Cadet for a year and then
A certain uncertainty

And the hat calls his name
Calls his name
Calls his name


Author's Note: My Nephew is an upcoming senior at West Point. He is also a talented musician.

Posted on 08/08/2013
Copyright © 2021 James Zealy

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 08/08/13 at 04:04 PM

~Congrats :)

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 08/08/13 at 06:32 PM


Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/08/13 at 06:45 PM

Excellent way of celebrating your nephew's current state of life, James. I like the combination of music and military through the various word choices. For a moment I thought that "Pain dances from his fingertips" might turn into something more ominous, darker, but happy you and he remained in the light with this one.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/09/13 at 04:26 AM

I love that third stanza.

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