I’d snuck out the front door, nobody ever uses it, then walked the miles to the railway station. Caught the train, nearly an hours ride and arrived at The Basement. Down by the Quay it was my city sanctuary.
The patrons were like any jazz composition, a multitude of real characters with open hearts all bopping about to their discordant tunes. No regular routine or clearly defined steps, partners irrelevant. A warm welcoming sense of camaraderie with no expectations or rules.
Then the sexy saxophone would moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops of home. Wistful lustful alerting us to his talent, desire released in it’s tone!
For jazz like life is open to interpretation, not confined by rules or regulations. Trusting we are smart enough to discern and learn from their intimate notes. Let love burn to ignite and unite.
D’Verse, 144 words prose, Lillian
“Moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops” Carl Sandburg’s Jazz Fantasia