Sonny Rollins
stroked that saxophone
like he was ready to
explode
Hunched over with a shag of white hair
a Quasimodo of jazz
I sat next to a black girl
swaying to Afro/American
beats
Summer in Berkley
before Big Sur
chanting prayers
in the beehive
The monks in their white
cowls were calling on
Christ
Kyrie eleison
Kyrie eleison
mercy
In the refectory I sat next
to a grizzled old monk
as we ate our meal in silence
Words from the Gospel
floated over our bolognese
Near the end the old monk
leant towards me and whispered
I hear you like jazz
I like jazz very much. I like this very much too.
ReplyDeletethanks Rob, I saw him for free lucky me, my friend was a Camaldolse oblate and she invited me along with friends to the concert , it was wonderful and the old monk was such a beautiful man, a sort of American Bede Griffith, he died recently I heard
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ReplyDeleteThanks Ariel
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