Elegy in blue
a horn is blowin’ slowly down the hall
an’ I remember how we’d hug an’ sway
you’d say that trumpeter can play
an’ close your eyes lettin’ the music fall
into you night an’ day jus’ the blues
I got another man know you’d understan’
I got the rent to pay but this ol’ room
ain’t like when you was here no heat
no moon shinin’ on your face you sleepin’
close breathin’ in my ear
but blowin’ from some place
there’s soul
(c) Paula McKay
***
Ultimate Game of Cards
by David Michael Jackson
The wind in the willows
whispers,
waits not for this poet whose
words are frozen,
and yet as restless
as the limbs which sway
carelessly like
youth which is
lost,
squandered in the ultimate
game of cards.
Aces and eights,
the dead man’s hand.
We are all holding aces and eights
and the wind in the willows
cannot help us.
I deal
a joker here
a queen there.
I am a lonely duece who
cannot sleep so I listen to the wind
in vain waiting for the
whisper.
***
To state the obvious
to send a prayer
“protect her”
to think of it floating
upwards
to think I’m not
a mouse in a hole
that bird looks so like
the bird of my youth
is it the same bird
a mouse in a cave
pretending divinity
I can see the bird
flying with
my
prayer.
david michael jackson June 5, 2012 editors@artvilla.com
