The piano and this jazz cat from another era were a match made in heaven. With a raspy voice and a blink of his one good eye he would greet me. We never spoke at length. He was too much of a man.
I am one of many, embarking on this experiment. The idea is to write a short piece of poetic prose about 365 people I have encountered in my life, one entry per day for a year, using approximately the number of words, matching my age. I've stopped, then resumed, but I am resolved to take this to the finish line.
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