This is a poem found in a journal of Jazz and Literature called “Brilliant Corners”. The author of the poem is Joel Dias-Porter I put in ( ) what scripture it suggested to me
“Did Miles mute his horn, because
a breeze can carry kites a gust might mutilate?”
(He did not even bend a reed)
Call him poet, professor. Call me shaky grasper of the chisel,
caught in a run-on rush to hammer it all.
(I ran a good race, to the end)
Finally, finally, I come to believe in loss as a way of knowing.
(I consider all loss as gain)
How long does it take to hear what silence can say?
(Be still and know)
I stand at a stoplight…
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