Lazy Bird (Blue Train)

Poetry by Ted Boughter-Dornfeld Copyright © 2009

Below Orion’s belt
He will fly.

Sailing in on the evening breeze,
Through a clustered cloud of E’s.
To the timbre of a stammer,
Above the cedar trees.
 
A wish for lips to seize the soul is filled,
Without tongue, or a love-stoned kiss.
No, this moonlight drifter need not sneak
To steal your attentiveness.

Raspy cool, birthed on a cool train, a Coltrane,
Flickering inside a steel blue horizon.
A stray bolt of lightning
in a darkening jar.
Did you see it?
 
Condensed droplets of jive crystallize
As sight spreads with a cock-crow sunrise.
Shadows yield to spots of sunshine, and
The hum knifes through atoms of air,
Awakening the Early Ears.
 
A fulfillment, furnished.
A drip, a drop,
A drip and a drop,

Arranged in pairs of sinking threes –
The details of an ensemble’s dream
Infuse the day’s reality.

And with one last vertical dance,
Time slips back to a simpered trance,
As basso continuo leads you home,
Through a lonely mountain pass.

A zephyr is crowned,
Sitting atop a morning cloud,
To culminate, an unfettered kite,
A lazy bird in flight.

Blue Train

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