Blue light

There is someting sad in that blue light of morning…

Where my soul walks softly

The creaking floor and the ticking of a clock

I hear the heater come on and a cat plod down the stairs…

And I listen deeply for that music

For the suspension and the tension

A flatted third and seventh… a question?

and I wait for the resolve…

And even though my body is still

I sit like I am waiting

And fold my hands
My mind is busy doing the math

Trying at length to assuage the grief

by replacing it with guilt or logic or cold hard data

As brittle as fall leaves

Analyzing the movement

Reverse engineering a life that ended in tragedy

Trying to determine the cause and assign blame

And answer the question, “Why?”

And even though I know there are no satisfactory answers

There is no resolve

I ask it again and again

And the chord hangs in the air, dissonant…

In the blue light of morning

when my soul walks softly. 

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