Freddie Hubbard

by Christopher Raley

 

I swear, Freddie Hubbard

called me at the meeting.

My phone rang–there he was!

 

leaning on the rail

outside the conference room,

staring deep at the street.

 

Sometimes I see these things

after they have passed me

unremarked and unknown.

 

And then I am back home

at table, headphone cowed,

waiting to fall asleep.

 

But I can’t come down it,

the long ladder from where

my heightened eyes strain sight

 

to be more than it should

and show more than it could

so it lines up rhyming.

 

Man! Freddie Hubbard, there

at the end of the day

looking like a man might hope

 

if he could just follow the chords

and imagine.

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One Response to Freddie Hubbard

  1. Good one Chris. I admit I had to look up the trumpeter. But I got images without really know exactly who/what.

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