Playing Night Music Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

I call him jazz
Because he is the music
My heart hears...
Like the slow rippling
Of a trombone,
Deep and mellow.
Sometimes, gentle like Duke's piano,
When he plays Mood Indigo, lingering
Forever.
Jazz is what I hear when he whispers
My name, sweet and low,
Like a lonesome saxophone's
High notes, wrapping around me
Like his arms.
There was never a sound as mellow
As the soft echo of his breath
in my ears...
Jazz I call him,
Because, jazz he is,
Between all the notes he plays and
Serenades me with my favorite song, 'Unchain Melody.