Blues
The windedbrassy
notes are fluid,
moody longing they display,
in the company
of keyed ivory,
as the sentient voice eschews
a song of sentimental value,
low lashes cast in shadows,
by the smokey pall obscured,
in its settled grey dark blue.
In deep shade a piano whispers,
a manner for which it is known,
and bidden by the applause,
it hails a sweet indulgence
this night I call my own
that recalls a pillows velvet contours
have sewn a divergent point of view,
this half moon bay remembrance
the one you take me to,
because,
in dreams I dream of you.
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