FRESH AIR

on entering a room  freed from the habits
of words   to contemplate the heart’s
wave function   collapsed into circles

of chairs   flowers on a table   the air
light blue with betweeness (sit anywhere

green silence coming from the car-park

and ministry   printed on quiet
some people like to close their eyes
others   observe each face and count
the beards   (it was written that

once light was a bulb left on in
rooms dusty with old sermons
brick-built curtain walls

now leaflets   shoved in your hand
don’t tell how sun through windows
shines in your eyes  

but leave a space   for the unwritten
grace notes   gathered in   at the end

the birch trees will shake hands

MILES DAVIS

There’s an atmosphere in the pause

So what    So what    So what

That blue note drifts
through the window into night
and the words all click 
            into place

            We were discussing
shared space  :   the way a line

Freddy Freeloader has left the room

arrives only hours before

sometimes you have to follow
the line of blue  :  along the horizon

            break in the weather

that quiet house on the bay
sound waves dying on the shore
that long distance to the sea

or how capture a streetlamp’s
sodium ghosts on branches
of a winter’s night

                        Blue In Green
All Blues   Flamenco Sketches

            This one I don’t play
too often   The conversation
of silence  :  mood changes mode

            but I thought of you
old friend I love  :  someone not met

opens the door with a breath