Spring Blues
In the morning
when I rise
to the songs of Nina Simone
and the burr of beans grinding,
to the fragrance of magic,
as it drips in my cup,
I look outside and see
the spring blues.
The blue squills are
everywhere.
Some are where I planted,
most are rearranged
by squirrels.
Ah, the mornings of spring,
the drifts of blue stars
and Nina's voice, an aching fire,
and darkness steaming in my cup.
Spring morning…
dripping,
drifting,
singing
spring blues.
Words and photo are mine. If you want to know more about Nina Simone, click here. Squills in my yard are "scilla bifolia"; the squirrels change their locations where they will...always surprises.
