Clubscene - WordJazz

Closing Time

All but
three patrons
have disappeared
into the night
a
lone musician
seated upon a stool
paying
homage to the blues

stark emotions
trickle
from his horn
like
liquid notes
stressed and highly lyrical
wavering slightly
into
gut-wrenching shrieks
and
withering
into barely audible
whispers

it's alleged
"that you have to live
the blues
before you can play
the blues"

the porter
starts his nightly
schedule
elevating chairs to tabletops
tossing
crumpled napkins
and
straws to the floor
the
bartender wiping
the countertop
aligning musty glasses
above the sink

the mournfulness
of the tune
bring into being
a fluttering of uninvited
memories
vaporous images
of an
unrequited love
emerge
from the darkness
amongst
the dust bunnies
smiling
dismantling subdued
feeling
of a former time
a
haze of distraction
hope and fears

damn
it's closing time

Redd Williams
01/01/08