The Web Poetry Corner - Philip Claude Andermann - To the Jazz Player in Winter
To the Jazz Player in Winter
Philip Claude Andermann
Freed fingers of Spring's rain have found your cheeks,
rush to your fingers' heartbeat, your tears.
Each in the audience sees "her,"
hears the words, of a dialogue,
which none learned before.
In each heart a new instrument resonates, it speaks.
Life's an instrument at times chilled,
a maze through which will blow warm notes
of hope to lead the way.
For me they are messengers rushing from the future
bringing a face stunning
with gentle fingers:
at last Hope has found me.
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