Three Valves *

All he needs

Are three valves of expression

Eyes 

gently closed in invocation

Hands 

holding an external exclamation

Lips 

verbalize a vibration

His face shows years of creating

Tuffs of gray border brass

His body aged with intonation

Swaying swing 

                Sharing song

                              Spirits’ slang

Freedom from timidity

A story is spoken

With notes and love and soul 

Sounds that paint a picture

Colors patch a canvas of cadence

Listen, see the psalm 

Thank you trumpet man

Your vibrations reverberate

Pulsate

A

Universe of jazz

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