Saturday, January 18, 2014

September Saturday Night (Poem 291)

Before you speak, a song 
swings into my bias-cut mind,
draping these dreams in veils
blue as smoke, as indigo,
as sky reflected in sea 
reflected in your eyes.
Try as I might--melody
becomes you, finds me, 
swaying in your arms while 
the champagne sky sparkles 
overhead, harmonizing with 
the varied charms of this 
September Saturday night.

(c) 2014, by Hannah Six