Strains Of Duluth

I wrote this in the car one time on the way up to the north shore:

Strains Of Duluth

9/14/02

Gazing at the pink horizon

I hear the saxophone

Strains of blue creeping in

I hear brushes on the snare

Green trees, grey road melt together

I hear the intervals

Go up and down the keys

And the bass sputters and sighs.