Friday, June 30, 2017

Jazz night

imagine the crisp howl of horns
feel their welcomed vibrations 
how they make the night seem so still afterwards

a hot night under a big august moon
people inside mingling with the humidity
as it clings to dewey brown shoulders 

under the glow of soft yellow lights
we swirl our drinks slowly
such certainty in the rim of this glass

tell me no other place is real 
it is all in the past and tomorrow is so far away
the music insists on our attention 
and makes us close our eyes 
becomes more than sound to my ragged soul 

eyes shining like lights all around 

this has truth to it when not much does anymore

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