Kind of Blue By Lynn Powell

Kind of Blue

BY LYNN POWELL

Not Delft or   

delphinium, not Wedgewood

among the knickknacks, not wide-eyed chicory   

evangelizing in the devil strip—

But way on down in the moonless   

octave below midnight, honey,

way down where you can't tell cerulean   

from teal.

Not Mason jars of moonshine, not   

waverings of silk, not the long-legged hunger   

of a heron or the peacock's   

iridescent id—

But Delilahs of darkness, darling,

and the muscle of the mind

giving in.

Not sullen snow slumped   

against the garden, not the first instinct of flame,   

not small, stoic ponds, or the cold derangement

of a jealous sea—

But bluer than the lips of Lazarus, baby,   

before Sweet Jesus himself could figure out

what else in the world to do but weep.

Explication:

This poem is an elegy describing the colour blue, but the title is an allusion to a famous Miles Davis Album entitled Kind of Blue. It all seems to drift away from the music theme except in the second line of the second stanza where it say "octave below midnight...".