What I just found out

I've known it from day one:

jazz is his guiding light and tonight,

after weeks of bang and blare

in that rehab center,

he’s home playing big band CDs. 

The trumpets, all those horns

return to him his past, spread 

it out on the table,  each tune 

a mound of delicious memory.

The skin around his eyes folds 

with pleasure, a flare in the left eye 

and then the right.

A man can think he wants to die

and no melody will change his mind

but a certain swing, a few favorite notes

can overshadow his resolve,

can make him want to stall his

demise by at least one more hour.

I just found that out.