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that make it ours

when terri and i play dolphins
we're hearing sevenths
and ninths and minor sixths,
the syncopation and rhythms

of our childhood, growing up,
both of us, hearing louis,
billie, hamp, ella, diz, duke,
oscar, sarah, pass and brown,

bird and bru, getz and gilberto,
and for terri, wes, her
old familiar, her default rhythm,
and mine—my rhythm is terri,

i'll play dolphins to any song
she likes, just so it's jazz,
it's the syncopation, it's the scat,
that make it ours—

i listen to terri and catch that
just so rhythm, and make it mine.

Poetry by one trick pony