BLUES


The startled note rose
By a half tone – in fear…
On B flat froze the despair.
Why does the icy heart
Tinkle and ring
In the sunbeams?
Isn’t afraid of turning into rain…
Of going with the wind in spring?

The sax o phone complains
In the saloon…
Blues – reproach and delusion…
I hum bass guitar’s sad bars,
Nostalgia wipes out tricks of vision,
And the wind, the chill breeze
Doesn’t scare any more
The maple-tree and its leaves…

Tsira Gogeshvili

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blues-4/