The Sound Of Jazz Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken

A trumpet sighs,
stretching long, golden notes into the air,
fading like the last glow
of a streetlamp at dawn.

The bass walks steady,
thick and sure,
a hearbeat inbthe dark.

Piano keys flicker,
whispering secrets between the spaces,
filling the room with something unspoken.

A saxophone bends,
weeping, laughing,
telling a story only the night understands.

And the drums-
they do not speak,
they dance,
stirring the air like restless footsteps
on wet pavement.

In the smoke and dim light,
time forgets itself,
and everything is just this moment-
just the sound of jazz.