Doing the Work
A poem by C.W. Bryan

Doing the Work

There is a man plucking a guitar
at the Dunwoody Farmers Market.
It is 8:47 in the morning.

He arrived gray-eyed and doe-legged,
sleep lapping at his heels. Still, precision
abides in every pick, the notes hanging

thick in the humid air. The sun shielded
by clouds so it cannot burn the fog away.
There is a capo on the third fret.

There are dollar bills in his hat. Tomorrow,
he will sleep in late, kiss his wife, send his kid
to school with enough money for a soda.

It will be cold, and worth far more than a dollar.

About the Author:

C.W. Bryan lives in Atlanta, Georgia. His poetry has appeared in Beaver Magazine, Eunoia Review, Door is a Jar Magazine, and elsewhere. He is the author of Celine: An Elegy (Bottlecap Press) and No Bird Lives in my Heart (In Case of Emergency Press) He writes daily at poetryispretentious.com. 

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