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Jazz Club







Jazz Club
The lights dim
a horn wails
smoke and whiskey      fill the room
A voice like silk
            from some long past era
hearts mellow
            tears spill
Swaying bodies
            fingers snap
shuffling feet
across the floor
Hushed voice                conversations
            glasses clink
                        toes tap
Drunk on
the surroundings
a slice of heaven           on a paper plate
High notes - low bows
            the jazzman walks off
                        claps and whistles follow
                                    the lights rise


Ann Christine Tabaka


Ann Christine Tabaka lives in Delaware, USA.  She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.  Her most recent credits are The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, Longshot Island, Indiana Voice Journal, Halcyon Days Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets, and BSU’s Celestial Musings Anthology.


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4 Comments

  1. Replies
    1. Thank you so much Sofia. You honor me.
      Christine

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  2. Lovely-you've caught the mood perfectly!
    Judith Kelly Quaempts

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Judith. I am so glad that you like it.
      Christine

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