I’m Not Really a Waitress

for my Catherine

dipped in wine
tips calloused from
steel strings
the B always
too flat until the
capo brings it
                      good enough for jazz
to where we are
a middle age timbre
                                        no, baritone
and your laugh
that laugh that always
me of seventeen and
twenty and even but
all the years between

I wish you were
to tell me that
I have been stupid but
it is the only way to
                                be, my beautiful cat-face
then I might sleep
to the Billie
notes of your
and the harmony
I sing
that only ever
with you

c.sdmrogers 2008