Poem to Dave Brubeck


You wrote poems to me
we had conversations
without ever speaking
You didn’t know me
I knew you
Some fans sit quietly,
leave quietly
but know they have heard you speak
in words called notes
which weave an improvised tale
like this improvised poem
up and down
volume and timbre.
It is the timbre of your life sir
that is the timber of jazz.


Dave Brubeck Interview The Dave Brubeck Quartet and Ralph J. Gleason.


timbre…..n. In acoustics, that characteristic quality of sounds produced from some particular source, as from an instrument or a voice, by which they are distinguished from sounds from other sources, as from other instruments or other voices

poem by David Michael Jackson

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