Improv

On a still apartment porch
a lone man stands up high.
Silhouetted by the moon
his saxophone held high.

He puts his lips upon it
and blows a sweet, soft note. 
The whole town stops to listen
to that alluring note.

He plays into the darkness
surrounded by a mist.   
His heart is filled with passion
the sound carries in the mist.

by Mark McLaughlin