dear charles,

     (a dream note to charles lloyd, 29apr96)

you came to me in a dream

early this morning

the silver of your saxophone

glistening whole notes

long trane tones unfurling

lester subtle young tendernesses

rhythmically sophisticated lyrical flags 

flowing within the wind melody 

of your breath

so i had to write to you

you were passing through 

the audience sharing great helpings 

of honest horn musings

pain but no anger, bliss

that blossomed 

watered by the dew of tears

as your gentle noise 

whooshed into our ears

some of us inhaled sharply 

& held the bellowing of the music 

bottled within our bosoms

the seriousness of your song 

transmuted into tangy blue smoke 

& we became fiends 

addicted to the music

you know, i had to write you

at one point you dressed in loose garments

i remember the off-white of natural cotton

a touch of blue (perhaps a knit cap) & a slash 

of muted red, a belt? or was the flash

a sash or scarf? & sandals, no, slippers

yes, backless slippers

& yr legs were crossed 

& some sister was singing

& your elegant obbligatos 

sensuously caressed

with the patient thoroughness 

of a mature man

more interested in intimacy 

than the immediacy

of climax, you did a little jump riff 

that set toes to tapping 

& you also sang (in a funny soft voice,

slightly off-key) “lady, 

lady, 

oh lady

be good” 

such gentle blessings as these

are necessary evidence 

to persuade our sisters 

that it is possible 

for men to be humans

so i write just to say 

i heard you 

in my sleep &

realizing the depth 

of dreams

i strive now to keep

the blessings of your sound

ringing within me 

during my every waking hour

—kalamu ya salaam