.

blue and yellow
slipping into green,
into a dream of summer,
into Oscar Peterson's When Summer Comes,
his Canadian winter long like this one,
whiteonwhite, his yearning-shroud
pulled tight into a Requium,
a tribute to lost friends
and how such minor chords
bleed time into their fluid walk
along the strings towards the dark
of my black dress, piano bars,
Napoleon B, a watercolour hum
of conversation draped across the night
as if to slyly grip a glass cliché
with dreams of summer
splashing up the sides
and dripping blue and yellow
into green again.