Jazz Poetry

A Permanent Imprint

By Published: January 7, 2007

The opposite of August
I'm buried in snow
Your body so distant
And sorrow flows
Thru the beauty in music
Makes our love ever glow.

For each time listening
I feel you in my bones
A permanent imprint
Woven thru amazing tunes;
Active in the brain cells
As I long to re-learn
The glory in surrender to
The love of that man.

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