Jazz in Copenhagen blows
winds and trees and folks
in the morn - a mild music
New Orleans' tender strophes
a glass of wine a table
full of people listening
"the gray golden" age
moving to the rhythms
walking to the next songs
by the new harbor with ropes
winds and wailing sailing
around the crowd attending
strolled along to the lake
in a special place where
that was more beautiful
than the measures in bars
guzzled the glistering
aperol spritz in the sun
lake swans pedals boats
Metroed to a jazz club
an air melodiously away
coffee swirled down with wine
and the jazz and improv
never stopped - harmonies
sax, guitar, bass swung -
their ardors mellifluously
danced away in the night.
We took the F train home.
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