by on April 23, 2012 :: 0 comments

In the redolent
snow kisses
the relief muted
at a posthoumous season
incognito you carry
your sax
by a surprising storm
and drang
stiffened by fishers
of buried ice
your carmelized socks
fallen in liquid silence
by your wet shadow
consumed by sunshine
over the long steppes
traced by a red scarfed
poet glazed
by falling birds
on an absent sky

editors note:

Saxophone stress, as perceived by a perennial poet, too cold for a red scarf. – mh

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