Maybe In Another Life Poem by Kewayne Wadley

He learned to sing the blues.
in a dim lit corner on the tram
from Memphis to New Orleans,
he met a woman two doors down from his.
the way her dress hugged her body gave him joy.
good lawd, mercy me.


he learned to sing the blues.
chasing a memory in the amount of steps
it took to reach her.
his slacks, a nice crease.
he started to drive but thanked the lord,
that he that followed his second mind.
his second head getting the better of him.
she stopped to return the stare and flashed a smile.
she looked down and smiled again.


chasing a memory in the amount of steps
it took to reach her.
he couldn't let her pass. her dress a summer breeze.
the smell of her perfume mixed with the smell of his cologne.
from Memphis to New Orleans
good lawd, mercy me.
She felt the same


once, twice, maybe again in the next life.
Mercy me.
the tram sped forward; his thumbs bent on the small of her back.
Her hiked dress and sweat beading from his forehead.
he asked where she was staying once, they arrived.
reaching for his wrinkled slacks.
she straightened her dress and fixed her hair.
for me to know and you to find out she replied
before disappearing out the door and out of the cart.


he learned to sing the blues.
his slacks, a dull wrinkle crease.
lost in the fun of a summer breeze.
from Memphis to New Orleans,
he met a woman two doors down from his.
maybe again in the next lifetime.
Good lawd, mercy me.