, , , , , , , , ,

Sometimes when
I listen closely,
I can almost
make out the words
in a jazz piano solo
as if I were reading them
from a page of the night.
I’d walk into some
warmly lit café and
the full bodied
aroma of the fresh brew
almost dyes the silence
earth-brown and makes
my heart skip a beat
in recognition.
I’d get home afterward
to surrender
my consciousness to
the lateness of the hour.
I’d flick the room
into darkness,
the colored knobs of light
from the WiFi router,
cellphone charger,
air conditioner,
voltage regulator and
PC monitor looking,
just before I close my eyes,
like the little city you see
as your evening flight
prepares for landing.

“Brooklyn Bridge New York City” by photographer Dominique Palombieri


You might also like: