spring ode

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eagleyez
eagleyez
5 Followers

show your colors
plume your feathers
plant your flowers-
hands in the mud
feet in the river,
does your train of thought
deliver?

bass clarinet
cash register rings,
dark bowties cocked
sideways
as working girls
step lightly
under minor 9 chords-

its raining somewhere
always raining-
but no clouds hang
over cold mountain,

as
snowmelt
culverts barrel,
coming up for air again and again,
a certain vague
knowledge, just say when.

the water finds itself
year after year-
polishing rocks,
rusting locks,
broken glass now smooth
like gemstones unboxed.


Eric Dolphy
lays back,
and the backroom staff
pauses- dishes stacked.

history?
Mystery?

under a midnite sun-
spring fever, delirious stars,
and the delicious
one-
as the
bluebird
has fun.

eagleyez
eagleyez
5 Followers
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5 Comments
jthserrajthserraabout 20 years ago
Is it the spring

that brings out the jazz? The bass clarinet immediately grabbed me. Such an unselfish instrument, so often relegated to the background as the saxes, trumpets, flutes, clarinets and oboes take center stage. My son played first chair in the high school band, his sister then took over first chair after he graduated. Alas, next year she'll change back to clarinet, but I've watched that long, tall instrument very closely for five years now. The low toe sound here resonates through your poem, wonderfully restrained jazz

"as the

bluebird

has fun."

So good...

jim : )

echoes_sechoes_sabout 20 years ago
I can hear the lilt

under a midnite sun-

spring fever, delirious stars,

and the delicious

one-

as the

bluebird

has fun.

absolutely beautiful, you have a way with words that make their own music :rose:

AnonymousAnonymousabout 20 years ago
Oh! The eagle soars!

This is one of your best! Lovely, lilting rhyme. Singing of spring with a jazzy beat.

YDDYDDabout 20 years ago
Vernal memories

Yes, it is that time of year when muse thaw out and hearts melt and become drippy.

Hey, somebody's got to do it!

Because they are spring traditional my favorite lines are:

"the water finds itself

year after year-

polishing rocks,

rusting locks,

broken glass now smooth

like gemstones unboxed."

. . . But I have to state

his music was great:

"Eric Dolphy

lays back,

and the backroom staff

pauses- dishes stacked."

Coltraine on the brain. - Thanks

AngelineAngelineabout 20 years ago
Nice poem

handsome. musta been some good music.... ;-)

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