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.
*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen
3 comments:
Name that tune. No, don't name it; it's perfect the way it is.
Beautiful. I was just looking at photos of the full moon over NYC I took last year and your words brought all the feelings back
wonderful walk you took me... under the ebony sky, the jazzy Moon and stars, notes, on a staff of telephone wire...
had noticed you hadn't posted in a while and had to lQQk you up.
how are you doing mi amiga? i think of you when i look at the collage on my wall hanging in my study that you made for me of my poems a couple of years back.
gracias
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