Only a few days after you pass,
reminds me of time,
how like sand it slips
through an hour glass.
it has been long since
I have laid my head back
and listened to the flow of jazz.
how it unwinds and unravels,
carefully, each moment to the next.
sometimes, wildly,
it dances upon a rhythm chasing
a fleeing feeling.
as if it were creating a story
with a ******,
where until reached,
keeps you wanting more.
no amount of pain inflicted
could numb me,
the free sound of jazz.
no other sound could ease
or tender any better
than the sweet sound
that sent my senses
bringing them to the heavens