I thank you, saxophone player.
An arc of plane-smoke links you to the
Westward hotel row
Ugly edges softened,
bathed in pink.
Your music calms the beach
Lessening the disco
there where the teenagers gather
children, grandparents, young men.
Lighted ship slowly traverses the grey-haze
Mosquitoes bite but let them feed!
Your music mingles with the waves' lapping