Anything But

Anything But

 Listened to blues this morning,

as we do every Saturday.

Thought about Chicago.

How we met in a blues club.

How we read poetry together.

How we we went back to Chicago

for poetry and jazz.

Looked at you across the table,

listening to blues this morning,

and knew, without a doubt,

It’s been anything but the blues.

30 poems in 30 days_12

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