Balcony Blues in the Crescent Light

Beneath the whispering palms and iron lace,
two shadows breathe life into a sacred space.
Their horns speak truths the tongue can't say,
as twilight leans into notes that sway.
Gas lamps flicker like fireflies in flight,
dancing with jazz in the hush of night.
This is New Orleans—a balcony stage,
where every note writes a soulful page.
You’ve captured the spirit with charcoal grace,
where music floats and hearts embrace.
In your strokes, the silence sings—
a serenade of brass, of roots, of wings.