Monday, November 30, 2009

Bill Evans (Draft 2)

Bill Evans

Fingers floated over ivory,

a beauty

reflecting

the soul inside.

Miles would call you

just to hear you play.

Years went by,

the body decayed.

That beautiful soul

possessing your hands,

making god himself weep.

Blue In Green

plays quietly,

the sun sets.

You live

once more.

No comments: