Orange Walls

Deep orange walls
infused with the muses
streaming through his trumpet
Fingers pulsing
what the soul is feeling

Eyes closed for one sweet moment
hips swaying slowly
in the heavy, fragrant air
Collective strangers
bound by notes and lyrics
heads nodding agreement

Yea, that’s the feeling

A couple dances
her loose curls falling on
his wrinkled shirt
aware of only each other, until

A high note, eyebrows lifted

The old woman raises her hand
snaps her fingers to the tune
Her metal nails and metal pants
with the trumpeter’s metal vessel

Electric seconds
then tempo floods
Eruption of jubilant movement
in the Treme


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