The speaker describes a stretch of life when everything went flat. Sunlight, breezes and birdsong meant nothing, and days passed without poetry or any spark of thought. The images of a "dry sea" and a thick, damp fog make the numbness feel both heavy and strangely empty. The repeated line "I had forgotten jazz" works like a refrain of loss, a reminder of what was missing the whole time.
Then the mood turns. A bit of music drifts out of the radio and nudges the speaker, almost like a friendly hello. The short, quick lines and the "walk of a bass line" make the poem itself start to move. The speaker compares the change to a dormant seed finally getting what it needs to grow, break through the soil and scatter more seeds. By the end, the tone is joyful and free. The last line flips the refrain: "Again I have jazz." Music here is not just entertainment; it is what brings the speaker's soul back to life.