The Harp Player

A quiet cool afternoon.

Under the shadow of the bridge you can hear the sweet sadness of his harmonica jig - rolling and winding its own little way down these greasy piers where oil slicks lay - from the working old boats looks just fine, it's a certain something you know in your heart come from work and soul and grime.  In this old town you can't have the love song without the dirt and the soot and the time, and baby you know as well as me you don't get the blues from nothin' that aint never hurt.

This is what I remember of the song as the harp player played away that day, the pier swayed, we laughed - danced - and passed the jug around and on that pretty day we had it made.

This piece measures 16x24 inches and is painted with oil on a masonite panel.