Haunting tenor sax sounds,
floating, hanging in the dark air.
A refrain from a soul unbound,
with all emotions stripped bare.
Seeking solace to be found
in the warmth of music's care.
Fading slowly into silence again,
without leaving a single trace.
It's unseen balm soothing pain,
a gift bestowed in total grace.
Ephemeral notes gently easing strain,
without a sight of the player's face.
Heels echoing up empty streets,
almost like a metronome.
The sax picks up the beat,
stirring memories of home.
Filling lead into my feet,
whilst the road beckons me to roam.
The music keeps a fire burning,
in the stark reality of being alone.
While life's wheel is slowly turning,
grinding my boulder down to a stone.
On this long curve of learning,
a craft which I need to attone.
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