Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,057
But Beautiful
Maybe winter is the best time
for jazz, let it wrap me in a blue
haze of lush round notes
to soften the blow of red shard
memory, you bringing green
into the house, bringing cold
windy blasts furred with balsam,
laughter and delight standing
the tree by the window, unwinding
lights, shining too
in the flecks in your eyes,
love nestled like birds
in the branches, the Charlie Brown
ornament, the tiny coffee mugs
hanging side by side,
fire crackling
and good warm scents
in the world we built together.
It's beautiful but hard
to muse on: gratitude blunted
by the fleeting nature of joy
and yet the pain lingers
so sweetly, perhaps that
is the secret gift of blues.
Week 51, Poem 1, Total 61
Maybe winter is the best time
for jazz, let it wrap me in a blue
haze of lush round notes
to soften the blow of red shard
memory, you bringing green
into the house, bringing cold
windy blasts furred with balsam,
laughter and delight standing
the tree by the window, unwinding
lights, shining too
in the flecks in your eyes,
love nestled like birds
in the branches, the Charlie Brown
ornament, the tiny coffee mugs
hanging side by side,
fire crackling
and good warm scents
in the world we built together.
It's beautiful but hard
to muse on: gratitude blunted
by the fleeting nature of joy
and yet the pain lingers
so sweetly, perhaps that
is the secret gift of blues.
Week 51, Poem 1, Total 61