Twilight Concert

In Garden City
it was almost twilight -
The sky was a crimson abstract
above a gazebo with a woman
singing jazz in her Crepe de chine,
her voice reaching the fenced off
Geraniums and green and white balloons,
the band reveling in Duke Ellington, while
old Cranstonian men in lawn chairs
snapped their fingers, and mid-life
women swayed to the beat of
Satin Doll and Why-Not-Take-All-of-Me

I leaned against a parked car, and
let the music take me to the tops
of the animated clouds and up the
hill where Japanese Yews spelled
out our location as the jazzy horns
moaned in the cool air, music thick
and sweet like honey -
The heat of the air curling up the
back of my hair, rustling my loose blouse
my face gently blushed by
the streams of sunlight
and smooth smooth jazz.

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