Sixteen in '62
Charity Bryson
Scratchy wool on tan legs sprawled across a couch.
Ponytail sweeping against my back.
Sangria red toenails bobbing on sandaled feet.
The scent of eucalyptus drifting in the room.
Fog seeping through an open window.
tinny whisk of cymbals
staccato clink of the piano
thrumming cadence of drums
juicy syncopation of a saxophone
Brubeck swishes and swirls around me.
Where did the sweetness go?