The Cruellest Month

Sing Like Stars

Alarms in my blue morning sing like stars,
the indigo of night is in retreat.
A cold blue zooms from each commuting car
and Monday marches forward on the street.

The indigo of night is in retreat.
I rinse the mist that clouds my eyes of blue
and Monday marches forward on the street.
My boots are suede, but black of heel and hue.

I rinse the mist that clouds my eyes of blue,
I tie a cobalt scarf about my neck.
My boots are suede, but black of heel and hue
and overhead the sky's a dismal wreck.

I tie a cobalt scarf around my neck.
The workday looms enormous, like the week,
and overhead the sky's a dismal wreck.
I cannot see the sapphires I seek.

The workday looms enormous, like the week,
A cold blue zooms from each commuting car
I cannot see the sapphires I seek.
Alarms in my blue morning sing like stars.




April 11 - Blue Monday