Song for Billie Holiday

What can purge my heart

Of the song

And the sadness?

What can purge my heart

But the song

Of the sadness?

What can purge my heart

Of the sadness

Of the song?

Do not speak of sorrow

With dust in her hair,

Or bits of dust in eyes

A chance wind blows there.

The sorrow that I speak of

Is dusted with despair.

Voice of muted trumpet,

Cold brass in warm air.

Bitter television blurred

By sound that shimmers–

Where?