Live. Love. Jazz.

The bronze body,
And the cold silver keys
Touch my fingers
As I go to pick up my
Tenor Saxophone.
I hook my neck-strap to it,
So it won't fall out of my reach.
And put it around my head.

I take the reed,
I had been soaking
And place it gently against the jet black mouth piece.
And secure it with the golden ligature.

I sit down in my seat,
And get ready to play.
Mrs. Ream counts us off,
And the songs starts.
when I push my keys down,
The beautiful note changes,
To make another.

The neck-strap digs into the side of my neck,
But I don't mind
Because I'm so lost in the sound of,
Pure, Clean, Jazz Music.