I love going to Yoshi’s with my son.
We listen to jazz while I sketch.
The piano player begins. Look at
the line of that piano. How tall
the string bass is! The bass player’s
fine line fingers work the strings
into peppermint strokes.
Drums join in
Sounds play off each other.
Yellow daffodils become
a thundering herd of mustangs.
Heads bob. Feet tap.
Loose ink glides over paper.
Wrapped in the rhythm of the moment
I’m in there dancing
Fresh silver stars stretch out.
A meadow of blossoms folds over into peach.
The music textures down
to sunset tones.
The set is over.
But I sat down only a moment ago.