remember me to the weary blues

Remember me to the weary blues
The breathing room and the wooden radio
Remember me to the weary blues
The straightness of the road
and the pink of the sky
Where the fading sun falls to the sea

The trees are bare and the car lurches on
A pale moon, we’re drivin’ and talkin’
The trees are bare and the car lurches on
Spring’s first flush along the verge
Arriving in darkness,
electric blue dinner,
a fragile neon

Inside jazz band tunes jagged,
the smell of coffee
Warm soap and cigarettes.
Jazz band tunes play on,
a sticky floor and the tiredness of travel lingers,
come evenin’ we’re driftin’,
I’m floatin’, it’s seemin’

Every time I close my eyes
that New York minute flies just flies
And in the space for silence the car is warm;
Leather seats like God’s cupped hands
The smell petrol and dust,
and we can drive all night

The pulse beat of the people
keeps right on going
The pulse bet of the people
keeps right on going
All this love in my soul,
a life painting pictures in blue

Remember me to the weary blues
The breathing room and the wooden radio
Night growing cold, moon waning thin
And I’ve got nothing to do but sleep
Remember me to the weary blues
The weary blues and Langston Hughes


©2007 Angela J Elliott