Arkansas Writer: Hialeah

Red skies in the morning. I see red skies at night.

But that don’t mean my evening is gonna turn out right.

Rain on the horizon. Here it’s hot as fire.

Blues is played in the city. In the country, I hear a choir.

Better days to come. My best days have passed.

The moon is rising slowly. I love the moons of my past.

Leaving Memphis for Miami. Farmington for the sea.

Searching for a good old storm to come back and comfort me.

On the road in Tennessee, on the road in Georgia too.

If I don’t make Miami I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

Never said she would wait for me. Never said she would be true.

But I don’t care what she’s done. Baby, I still love you.

Flew down through Florida. Stayed on the Interstate.

My heart looking for happiness to help me lose all the hate.

It’s the same moon over Miami that’s over Memphis Tennessee.

Come on, Hialeah make me happy as can be.

By A. L. Shipman Jr.

Arkansas Writer