Ever aware of the passing time, they’re counting out each phrase.
They read the world in beat and rhyme, even syncopated ways.
Their hearts pump out the dum-dum-dah-do of the driving bass guitar,
while piano chords harmonize with that redhead at the bar.
Pedals pound on a standing grand,
as notes slide from those chunky velvet keys.
The choir belts a soulful song that could bring the faithful to their knees.
The rhythmic drummers pound the sound out deftly in the wings,
as a rousing loud crescendo lifts those lowly weeping strings.
The hollow drone of the big brass horns, so somber and alone,
with space to hide whole worlds inside, composed of pitch and solid tone.
It’s a tidal wall of music,
of vibrato never strained – melody rests and rises before the ultimate refrain.
The romping notes go marchin’ in
right down that slick trombone,
and they’re dancing round the high-hat’s rim,
just to drive that funky rhythm home.
For musicians it’s all timing,
raw emotion right or wrong.
When the leader snaps his fingers,
all is music, all is song.
by D. Ryan Lafferty
Literary Crumbs: Poems & Short Stories to Savor by D. Ryan Lafferty 