every morning
as i dress for work
my record player
is spiraling blue train
eve spitting pomegranate seeds
the air surrounding me
fills with your cologne
my hips move
as if you were there
to dance around
tongue remembering
your mouth, bladed grass, and
the endless bourbon
baby, you have found a way
to make jazz forever sound
like california
One reply on “blue note baby”
Reblogged this on Cindi Silva Poetry and commented:
A poem by my friend and very talented poet Alicia Young … <3