Dixieland Man
by Michael Keshigian

His fingers blur
grenedilla wood
and improvises
ebony with silver
as the sweet colors
of a clarion call
pulsate the room
with a staggered step
and the rhythm
gets your body swaying
and fingers tapping
to the incantations
from his black magic wand
pointed skyward
like a unicorn’s horn
even the dim lights bop
to the two beat bounce
on the dark dance floor
while the Dixieland man
lost in his world
excites your soul.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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