Chevelle Merah Kathleen Wernsmann


The Crashing Of Blues

The crashing of blues,
a hue in the midst.
A baby's bewilderment,
the steal from a kiss.
A darkness of heathens,
the sky from beyond.
A tyrant of colors,
as time marches on.
For the crashing of blues,
is what I can hear.
The sounds from a people,
on a deaf dancing ear.

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