Sonnet 4: Brubeck’s Gone

Brubeck’s gone now or missing _ a beat

Brief as any backward glance _ disguised

With inhaled pause words like ‘Oui’ _ replete

As a thought caught, considered _ surmised.


Riding an updraft in five _ four time

Like a finch that bobs and floats _ between

Nine quick wingbeats, a suspense _ sublime

Defying a steady course _ the seam


Apart. Toes tapping in sync _ opaque

Measurements of broken sound _ silence,

As insects pulsing as one _ now break

Cadence, adjust the tempo _ from hence.


A black hole of music, gaps _ project

The lively play of pause and _ effect.


One of the album covers most often on display in my childhood home.

4 responses to “Sonnet 4: Brubeck’s Gone”

  1. Love this! Who’d a thunk it? and in 5/4! (I know. I shouldn’t even be surprised at all. Talent. Beauty. Brains. The whole package. Can you read that in 5?

    • Hey Ann. I actually thought I was holding this close to the vest while I repaired some little background problems on my site, so I’m surprised you saw it. I appreciate the feedback.

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