Inspired by Jacob Lawrence's Juke Box, 1946

The warmth of your message was less than that
of a small campfire under a moonless
night extinguished with ice water from pails
filled five times in the dead of winter. My
subsequent actions were appropriate.

While walking downtown I heard the laughter
of neighbors with waves of goodnight, and smelled
the first sign of autumn from cleaned chimneys.
I unbuttoned my coat to feel the breeze
across my neck soothing my frustration.
I passed shops already closed for hours, and
prepared myself for the headlights advancing.

Congregated strangers, we touched music
with our movements swaying reverently.