The steady hum of conversation
simmers down when the trio enters the room.
A few scattered handclaps join a heavy note
of anticipation.
The drummer is a legend.
At 78, one wonders if the set will be too much.
On saxophone, a rising star.
And, at center stage,
a jazz master settles behind the keyboards.
Stage lights dim, whispered conversation
vanishes
Then the first extended note unfurls.
Jazz is an intimate, improvised experience.
As the music builds and the trio melds,
it is easy to imagine
the universe has aligned just for you,
your very own anthem penned
on the night air.
A Reading Life 
Your slice transported me back to Blues Alley. Your last stanza about improvisation and anthems penned in the night air is exquisite.
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a hint of the smokey jazz club air linger in this post….although smoking isn’t allowed any more, your post brings it back- Jazz was never my thing- I like singing, but the talent those hep cats have is inspiring!
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Your description makes me feel like I am there.
Favorite line: it is easy to imagine the universe has aligned just for you
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Beautiful piece. Jazz club musicians create a transformative experience. Sensual and ageless. Thanks for sharing!
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Beautiful–I love the idea of how generous the music is. “The universe has aligned just for you, your very own anthem penned…”
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The way you ended your poem was so perfect and satisfying – as you heard your very own anthem and savored it.
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