Listening to Japanese Jazz on Sunday Morning

Across the morning sky,
I become nostalgic –
all that love given
and received.
An all night caress,
look – I’m burning with you.

But, some tongues creep on –
against the odds,
And lemon trees
grow in the wind,
forever in a ready mood.

You finally came
into my soul.
So, hold me tight
and taste my pain.
And I will accompany you,
with the sun and the moon.

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