The Sound of Surprise
When those cheeks expand and he exhales
his breath within notes, as his horn blows,
I almost explode, Dizzy with enlightenment.
There’s something about the rhythm, the heir
of his playing, speaking with his mouth
and expressing such beauty on his canvas
of air, gripping his golden trumpet,
and all of the treasures he gifts us, even
when the vinyl is crackling back to the
Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac eyes closed
ears open, feeling the wind alone
as Gillespie takes us, each slight return
so adventurous, while reaching inside
his melody lingers resounding this cheeky
giant from his distance, sonically appearing
even as the needle uplifts us,
we feel closer to home.
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