Rio

The sound of John Coltrtane’s searching and the long held notes, quietened nerves in my mind.

Rain on Rio streets with wooden walls and walls stacked to the ceiling with more tall thin long searching people, cigarette smoke from bent elbows with laughing , special family nights, elegant beautiful people, fussing waiters.
Violence, fear of it, the stories of resistance to it, are relived and then beaches and apartments.
 
Rain on Rio streets and wooden bars with Italian coffee machines... taxi through the streets,
a bubble in the foam swept along, and the rain on Rio streets and dark wood beds with turned head rests
for  turned heads, dark heads but that searching
for that long held note of  safe.