Comments about Hank Jones
The first time I saw the moon I was five.
With a purple sky of black clouds
and a serpentine line of comets,
the night slithered and crawled in a way that seemed to deny
any kind of rotational pull, and instead, the night left me with
a great big balloon of sap and drool.
The second time I saw the moon I was eleven.
The sky was still purple and had black clouds, but the
serpentine line of comets had gone over the hill, and the night
no longer slithered. But in a way the night was better because now I could sense the rotational pull, and was left with spry ...