Number 9 Blues
Those eyes,
that song,
A bird the color
of the moon
we met under.
The wind
a ribbon of sadness.
Cold hands,
broken heart—
all the hue
of a trumpet’s lonely staccato.
Number 9 Blues
Those eyes,
that song,
A bird the color
of the moon
we met under.
The wind
a ribbon of sadness.
Cold hands,
broken heart—
all the hue
of a trumpet’s lonely staccato.
Cee’s prompt was to post photos of letters and numbers. Letters were the easiest to come by, but there are a few numbers in there as well. Click on photos to enlarge.
https://ceenphotography.com/2019/07/02/cffc-letters-numbers/