For Ben Webster
By Reuben Jackson
where do his eyes go
when he plays ballads?
higher than smoke
fogging the room,
cymbals which rustle god’s earlobes
like kisses.
a friend swears there is a
skylight in his hat
where notes gather
before plunging toward the bell
of his tenor,
while ben gazes longingly
up the skirts of stars.
Reuben Jackson, “For Ben Webster” from Beltway magazine. Copyright © 2002 by Reuben Jackson. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Source:
Beltway magazine
(2002)