B Flat Blues šŸŽ¶

Before first light
trucks clang on the street,
the noise of traffic,
a glimmer in the east.
Wind stirs the trees,
hints of yellow showing
in the slow turn toward autumn.
Iā€™m ready to let go the burden,
the many faces of might have been,
and take heart in the morning.
The B flat blues plays
somewhere in the distance;
as leaves fall
that mournful sound
turns the pain of regret
into music.



photograph by Louis MacKenzie


5 Responses to “B Flat Blues šŸŽ¶”

  1. Jay Schwartz says:

    Now , my man, the wail of that saxophone is heard here on the East Coast.

  2. Jack Lavelle says:

    B flat is fine, depending on the tempo. Too slow, and it’s not a morning sound at all. B flat seems like a West Coast sound, mostly.

  3. John Albright says:

    True resilience, Don. I love facing what the day brings. My only regret is not learning to play the banjo. Thanks for your consistent light in my life.

  4. Tom Figel says:

    Don, I enjoy the poem and the comments it provoked, including the quibbling point made by our friend Jack L. Don, you’ve awakened the band.

  5. Rebirth into darkness…..all is needful!

Leave a Reply