[ebook_store ebook_id=”471″] april snow
to Prince R.I.P
the pirouette
of voice
the cock-flash
of guitar
the preen
of melody
your smile
that times
went back
into the
sorrow
brother
it’s snowing
here in the
clear morning
sun those
april flakes*
you wrote of
a beautiful
ache before
gone
you were
our ‘Tracy’
no-one cried
like you
you were
that ‘kind
of car that
doesn’t
pass you
everyday’
fly on
sweet bird
flown of
april
snowflake
bird
22, 23 april 2016
*the imagery in the next flew lines is from Prince’s ‘Sometimes it snows in April’
Right, Dean, too many, don’t notice the poets disappearing at this rate, but then they don’t usually make the news!
master of Melody, alright. these departing troubadours lately, reminding…