Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Jazz Moon

Jazz moon shines softly
in the ebony sky
The stars
notes on a staff
of telephone wires
Waiting to be played
by anyone looking up
My love and I walk
measure by measure
beat by beat
down discordant streets
The melody lies
beneath the surface
And we groove
to our own harmonies.