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BLUE GRASS NIGHT; BREAKING UP AND BEYOND By Quentin Smith
There washes over the tar black room,
Blue-grass sound, lonely guitars
Are sonorous as loon cries
On a midnight lagoon. Distant sonority
Covers over what could be a
Love-ending misery.
On the stars’ syncopated stripes
The far-call of the night
Leads me beyond what was
Love’s last sad-dying
Over and beyond, I am far
No longer woman’s voice
Only the breath of the night star.
No. 9, 1974 and 2002
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