Jazz Moon Stroll
Wandering in silver essence.
Bathing in Presence.
You are the familiar one.
One who takes her time.
Darkness warms in you.
For you the Blues are bluer,
And your return ever heralded by softly
Trembling valves speaking in tongues
beamed down from that reassuring
baleful face that cannot be answered in
Washed over in you ‘till saxophone
tenor quake gently shakes loose
entrenched and wooden heart limbs.
Pulse and a step that sometimes walks,
sometimes crawls, sometimes glides.
I am awake in you.
Worms have no appetite for you.
I walk hand in hand with Pan and
Pandora, visiting as they tumble
through my window,
Imparting a call to befriend demons;
that they may, in satisfaction, resign
their torment for a time.
Shadows stretched in mist.
Spectres sculpted in the glow.
Clear upon the moment.
Pulling wide the expanse of the
darkened crystal lens…