Woodwind
This morning your mouth
Was all I could think about
Fiddle
Like a violin you leave
The sweetest
Bruise just beneath
My chin.
Upright Bass
Love that place
Where your hip hits
Your waist
& my head fits
Perfect, rests
Like music
Slide Trombone
All day that scent
In the crook
Of your neck
Distracts
Horns
Woke early, the light
Blues all in my bed
Where I wish
You warmed instead.
Rhythm Section
Without you the room
Grown small—
Only then can I see
How each night we rocked
A steady groove
Where the headboard
Hugged the wall.