I often thought
my father was born of music...
some wayward melody
that took the form of a man.
He heard music everywhere.
Squeaking bedsprings, buzzing flies,
dripping faucets were all filled with rhythm to him.
That he was "a great jazz pianist"
was the opinion of Charlie Parker, Lester Young,
and scores of others who played with him.
I, too, was in awe of his talent.
But I loved him out of all proportion...