I suppose
If I were better with words
a wordsmith maybe
I could describe the sound

Crafted and carved wood against brass would be like
the first rain
falling upon a parched window

keys once made of ivory and mahogany
sound as footsteps on old and cracked city sidewalk pavement
some mostly young ones dance
avoiding the life persevering through said cracks
respecting
recognizing
seeing
the same youth in the life carving a path for their own roots
as they are told of their own

The older ones
take a moment to be still
to hold a note
to hold their breath
to feel the vibration
enjoy life
until the note has passed

How could one explain the voice of a bass

Maybe

It is the rumble of a trolley
the heft of the slow moving train
the uneasy but understood movement of the subway platform as it is arriving
but has not stopped.

the depth of its pitch causes feet to be ears
one’s chest becomes a resonating chamber

The chirps
The caws
The song of the metal birds
nothing quite like it

Words mimic the notes
vocals mime the tone
but
the horns

they fly

If I were better with words
I could tell you what Jazz sounds like

still

I don’t think I would

The words and melody are already there
for interpretation
for explanation
all I could really do is give you more

No

I wouldnt even if I could tell you about Jazz
instead
id say one word


© Christopher F. Brown 2013