Winter Swing
In this house & on this street,
I heard you once;
strumming bespoke chords
through an open sash window.
They hung like snowflakes
in the timid light,
fell through black holes
with a handful of stars
— in search of a cadence
that would ring true.
And nocturnal showers
threw down in sympathy,
had a damn good howl
as I carried the tune,
entertained it–unpacked it
bar by bar and took it
away up into the skylight;
falling over myself
to get it down–trading fours
with you like a dab hand
until the wind called time.
©️ Orion Foote
Visions of Orion Poetry 