Joni

me & Joni Mitchell found ourselves cross-legged, strumming away
at the songwriting workshop this morning, and she sang a song
so beautiful I forgot I was dreaming, forgot that I’d made up this song
in a dream, forgot the song I was writing, and forgot that Joni was
as I remember, young, willow and fair-haired Laurel Canyon girl, and she
didn’t notice that I was only four when she wrote “Blue”, or that I was
nothing like Jackson Browne or James Taylor or any of those beautiful,
busted men from the coffee shop scene, writing love songs to her;
I looked into Joni’s eyes and Joni looked into mine, and she smiled
as she took up the song again, the song I’ve forgotten, but which
will always be just hers and mine

***

Adrian Slatcher writes poetry, fiction and music and lives in Manchester. His chapbook “Playing Solitaire for Money” was published by Salt, and he has had poetry and fiction in the Rialto, VLAK, Confingo, Cake and Unthology 4. He blogs about literary matters at artoffiction.blogspot.com

Read ‘Artist Pop’ also by Adrian Slatcher here.

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