Wailing Notes And The Quiet Beyond Them

I stretch in crisp air    
it’s so sharp it burns  
I’m here haunting the grove  
sun cutting through trees    
in an elegant arc of beautiful    
   
I watch phone-screen-zombies  
lurch through the cascade of light  
hunkered against the glow  
as if it alone provides warmth    
   
locks on the case pop  
 
the first note cries out  
the sax’s curves as familiar  
as walking    
like sex beneath my  
calloused fingers  
   
I wait in the preternatural silence  
drama in the scattered fields of  
doe-eyed people blinking awake  
   
I nod a little    
feel the audience  
before the witchcraft makes them sway  
and amidst the hushed reverie I hear  
heels on pavement clicking a metronome  
that makes my heart race  
   
I pause again  
wet my lips    
take a sip of water  
search the crowd  
the way hounds would search in scouring snow  
to find the tenor of that heart-beat-click  
   
we lock eyes    
I inhale sharp  
before I pull the trigger  
   
scream lust and sex through the    
lipping I’ve used a thousand-thousand times    
to explain through this plaintive cry  
I want to    
run your stockings  
with my well honed fingers  
   
I  
lost myself  
in the love of the art  
your auburn hair and those heels  
foremost in my mind as I    
wail the blues of want and desire  
   
I run out of things to say  
so I stop to restock  
your eyes bore hungry holes  
in mine    
   
the shuffle of restless feet in the cold tells the tale  
of their rapture and the applause  
follows the clink of coins in my open case  
in that frozen second  
we were the pause before the tremor  
   
and like magic I’ll always remember  
you  
in the million moments of quiet