three blues

June 15, 2013 § Leave a comment

three blues

a soft contingent of
slate hued yesterday’s curled
up inside my chest

they just don’t build blue
like this anymore
so I do believe I’ll
hang on to
it for a bit longer

it was this morning
when despair wiped
his feet on the mat
took off his hat and
nodded a cordial nod
I remembered that familiar smile
and tell me,
has an eye ever
reflected the slow blue
pulse of sorrow
like that
I don’t think one ever has

(c) 2013 Fred Whitehead


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