The melody haunts
on the offbeat,
my heart-pulse.
Sad, but
maybe hopeful.
The fuzzy reeds,
breath through tenors,
piano and bass
both upright shake
sand-castles loose
at the turrets.
Doubtful brushes swirl on snares
precise in ambiguous beat,
more color than anything electric.
A young girl
neon-green bikini
samba prone on her lounger
under earbuds to her own muse
or maybe disposable pop.
Surf rolls,
hear that oh-so-soft brush on cymbal?
Grab it, hold on
till fade.
Chicheme, March 2013
Chagall 2018
- Written March 21, 2013, poolside under headset,
listening to Miles Davis Kind of Blue, vibing with its drummer, Jimmy Cobb.
P.S. I called myself Chicheme back then. 🙂
“Grab it. Hold on til fade”
I really like that like. I can almost see and here it.
Otherwise the cymbals bleed.