Supple (Midnights In Song)

Like the final notes at the end of a piano solo…

The sun sets and ends the day, leaving behind a burning ember against my iris…

Breathtaking…

In an attempt to capture the sight using sound in order to press song into the night and evoke the light of day, I set a record to play because I can’t play like Cole Porter…

And with my hands not busy I am free to hold your attention…

A suspension in time in a dimension designed in the willing to be formed by the air that is absent between us and shared breaths that syncopate…

Dying in the night…

Bridging moments in the darkness until morning…

Breathe deep and exhale…

Feel within you… that your heart is always yours and what you see may steal it…

But what you feel is undeniable…

End of Day (Sarah Vaughan)

She sings in my heart…

A song that I love, backed by a jazz band…

In 3/4 time her voice syncopates in the spaces of silence of my heart palpitations…

I relax…

Free from the labor of having to use my imagination… for she’s painting images with her words… not mine…

But I cannot help my mind wanting to unwind the twine packaged box of my favorite things…

Who needs a drink when her voice of mid tones and falsettos are remnant of the sweetest of sparkling Italian wines…

I’ve dropped my coat on the floor, keys are still in the door…

I just got home… But she’s taking me even even further…

Sing it Sarah…

Mementos (Time Capsule)

The charm of any keepsake is the closeness that it bears to the heart…

Lockets containing pictures with messages enscribed on the back proclaiming love and dedication… get passed along and tell a story to be passed along… and its been way past a long time for you to begin one of your own… 

It’s in your eyes past what everyone can see… the beginning of something beautiful… the warm beginning of a record releasing the crackles of a kindling fire in which you dance to your favorite song, you relax at the end of your day and even if playing in the background…

its still there… and at the end you turn it over and listen even deeper until you have to do so again… and again… and again…

a joy to hear… you are listening… to pages turning in photo albums of things that happened and will happen… they draw you into remembrance… take hold of the present and make you gaze at your love becoming lost in the future…

What is within us that although as old as time itself always tastes so sweet, as warm as something new, a story … a song that no matter how many times you’ve heard it… never gets old…ageless… timeless… antique… vintage… love.