Lousiana Red 1978 | Photo: Mark Weber
A black wall. His fears standing
No breath blows the barrier down.
No shouts, push, pull hide the anger.
But when he sings….
He sings the strength of trees falling,
owning the space where they lie.
His sound hammers the air,
framing rooms on the stage of
And when he owns the jazz….
The jazz tears the colors separate.
Faces smile alike. Legs with dance
knees bend the travel of healing.
Walls bow to the strength of