Sketches of Spain

This poem was written in response to a prompt, chosen by the Cambridge University JazzSoc: 'Sketches of Spain', the Miles Davis album.

Once lined in gold

drifts petroleum in the tender

dissolve of blossom, pre-disposed

even before the song

to settle, like the lilt of turned

Cold. A flugelhorn, under

summer dust, silvers

as the first setting

of homesickness 

fingers the coins

for pay, for the memory.

What settles on the eyes,

seasons pass like the transience of Spain

turned inward from the dance.

By Jack Heath for CRoB Digital, in collaboration with Cambridge University JazzSoc

Artwork by Lia Li