By Jack Bowman.
The trumpet flares out, steamy notes, well felt ones,
Frank sits at his desk during a break,
glasses lost, he does his best to shuffle through.
Outside, the world is filled with viruses
and billions are confined to their homes.
Bands of morons,
defy this and will surely cause another wave
of the pandemic to spread.
So Frank writes, does his best to focus and balance
let’s the jazz in
it calms him –
reduces his typos
and reminds him about ‘the moment’
how it feels to be ‘moved’ about all you do
then does it.
Jack Bowman is the author of over ten books including poetry collections and novels.