The road at 1 a.m.
was only a traffic light
giving out instructions
like a good soldier
even when no one was around to obey them.
He watched from the window,
a guest in his own life.
Music played a few rooms away,
the jazz that she likes.
He likes it too
if she says he should.
A car finally drives up the road
and keeps going past his house.
His hands slide back down the window
through a cloud his breath left behind.
A wailing saxophone breaches his thoughts.
God, how he hated this song,
or loved it,
depending.
“Jazz at Midnight” originally appeared in Halfway Down the Stairs [2010].
About Christopher Hivner: I live in Pennsylvania, usually write while listening to music and enjoy an occasional cigar outside on a star-filled night. I have recently been published in Yellow Mama, Eye on Life Magazine, Dead Snakes and Illumen. A book of my horror short stories, The Spaces between Your Screams, was published by eTreasures Publishing. You can connect with me at www.chrishivner.com or on Twitter @your_screams.
Jazz at Midnight (by Christopher Hivner)
14 Tuesday Jan 2014
Posted 2000s, American, Hivner (Christopher), Poetry
in