Day: April 3, 2015

Alone In This Room, With His Sounds

He was born in the month of May, 1926

65 years later, death came knocking

In a form, hidden by a stroke

I sit here, alone in this room

Watching the shadows of a candle dance

To the rhythm of his horn

The sways, the bursts, The long and sad

Drawn out notes

I’ve traveled with him, on countless mind-journeys

Too many far off lands

To sit back, listen

And just take it all in

I’ve gotten lost in the notes of Montreux, Paris and Hollywood

But I always end up

Back in this room

He grew up middle-class, just like me

He was a seeker, always evolving, just like me

We had so much in common

And I like to think

The notes he wrote, were written just for me

The candle is now almost burnt out

And he’s closing with a number I can sleep to

My last sip of scotch

In synch with the clean sadness of the ballad

I blow out the candle

And drift off

slipping in and out

Of this beautiful blue and green world

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

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Slow Old Sun

High overhead

Washing out

All the problems of the day

clearing room for the relaxing thoughts

Hot beams

Extremely bright

Without worry

*

Moving across

Blue skies

taking his time, while heading west

The same as he does, everyday

So calm

So methodical

And peaceful

*

I come

By often

As often as I’m allowed time

With love and acceptance, for repetition

For warmth

For affection

For shine

© D J Loweman 2015