By John Stone
A set of the poetry of John Stone. The name is either a quest and secret: water as resource and water as existence. The poems keep on with life's eddies and flows - alongside the streets of Oxford, via an Atlanta neighbourhood, to event the lack of a wife, but in addition the therapeutic of time.
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I may not have been able to play the C sharp scale for Miss Louise, but I got pretty good at the clarinet under the tutelage of Mr. Wallace at Palestine High School. I also encountered death firsthand there: Jim Moore ("Big Jim"), another clarinetist, who could play "Deep Purple" with the roundest warmest low-register tones in town, ran his car off the road and was killed. Mr. Louis Pullo helped to reinforce my passion for music after my family had moved from Texas back to the town of my birth, Jackson, Mississippi.
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