and there i was.
all of 3 and a half,
draped in hopping silhouettes;
neck deep in swaying hips
and blaring tunes
tied to kick drums.
dramatic rim taps
and wingtips cluttered
cross the wooden floor.
surrounded by tall men with
tall women whose heels
unforgivingly grazed
the groaning floor boards.
their gowns thick
as kitchen curtains
that seemed to flutter
like butterflies in hurricanes.
i heard the summer whisper;
her hums sweetly floating
through grand windows
tall as ten of me;
tasting the rhythm
with her tongue,
she blew a cool sigh;
flooding the steaming stew
of old souls with young bones.
sunk real deep between
4 counts and hi hats
to twirl her way
into their step;
a type of swing
'cept it had a bounce to it
like steeple chasers.
those ladies with copper faces
and stone seasoned roots
with joints as old as time
played tag with the down beat.
those daddys dodging
in their tailoreds
like taxis in traffic;
toxic with a plague of ghouls
like the Count, King Cole
and Billie, Fitzgerald, Gillespie.
Then,
just as the summer silenced her hiss,
just as the sun
dug its heels into the dirt,
making its last ditch efforts
to remain present,
dusk untied its bows;
unwrapping a gift like glory.
and we were bathed in glory
that laughed like lovers
and kissed like dogs.
it drenched us in sloppy showers
glistening gold like sweat.
yet still,
we emerged refreshed.
so as the night
began its usual
chocking down of day
and good afternoons
cacooned into goodevenings,
i stood there;
all of 3 years old.
surrounded by silhouttes
that could only belong
to old souls with young bones
who belittled big bands
with their own vibrations;
those copper ladies
and skyscraper sized fathers
in tailored suits
who two stepped
to both sunsets and groove
grew into shadows.
and i stood in the midst of
those dimmed stars;
stamina riddled.
knowing that as
a summer day died,
a summer night
had only just begun.
