The Music of My Years

The amber notes

of my dad's alto sax

waft down the hall.

The night is young,

hearts rising

just to fall.

When the band 

finds its groove,

the floor and walls 

all vibrate with

the jazzman’s beat,

up and down,
side to side,

with all those 

dancing feet.

“Someone turn on

the bubble machine!”

my father cries.

He is the hero of

the golden horn

- he glows -

its notes the background music

of everything 

I know.

“Stardust,” “As Time Goes By,

and "I'll Get By",

- my parents' theme -

I grew up marinated 

in their love songs,

the music that taught me
how to dream.

In counterpoint,

his alto clarinet,

the mellow notes

of summer afternoons,

mellifluously serenading

those tender years,

his beautiful music 

ending

way too soon.

for Jazz Poetry with Amaya at dVerse. And I will share it with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where there is great reading every Sunday morning.