by January 12, 2014 0 comments

November calms restless swallows
as they leave me,
blue mise en scène in air

night’s cool breath, jazz purling
fogging closed windows
eases panic of empty beds

scent of serein
cradles memories
I had wrapped in kisses
dried between poems

November morning, notes on lips
lyrics lost in blue feathers
I dip a biscotto in my coffee
raise my hand with élan
and wait

editors note:

A poet’s idle mind invokes image from ennui – not a bad day’s laze. – mh

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