Ridges and Skies

Blue shows you what a stranger it is, rising periwinkle to purple into azure,

even the grass, blades sweet as mandolin strings,

sparkling, self-contradicting

over a glossy glassy lake,

deeper, different:

an electric guitar and a bass

drag your heart through a muddy delta,

a scotch-sipping, cigarette-smoking drummer

keeps time under a beat-up hat,

winking like a star

after midnight

while cocktail waitresses

wearing black

bring fresh drinks to tables with soiled, jewel-toned tablecloths

hanging down to the floor,

canopies covering fingers thigh-walking into laps like a saxophone,

melodious, teasing, leading

slow moves

deep grooves

Bodies rise and cling to piano keys,

the dance floor,

the sultry sway of Saturday night jug bands,

horns and strings, keys and skins.

Trees breeze color under the stars, moon lost in the light of a silver solo

Veils of clouds whisper the breath of tea olive into a kiss,

hips catch on bass lines,

hearts beat under skin, silk on velvet chords

Magic spills into the night, drips up into the morning,

slow,

a hill rising in the distance

echoing Yeats and an island

in a lake

where honey, thick and sweet,

coats every note

until golden days dissolve

down miles,

indigo nights,

blue eyes,

skies

in the

Coltrane