Last night I listened to Basie

explained as an artist of space,

content to leave open the breath

required for music to live

and flourish. And then I thought of you

and autumn and the clear renewal

of air charged with an edge of cold,

a way through the gold

and red of the next change. Us

on a brighter day than this

with dazzle wincing off the wing

and the water, song ringing out

from otherwise cathedral quiet. Indulgent,

yes, but a chance to merge

into something more than the same old

walls and weekend roll-call

of dogs and cars and children. The notes

come in clusters, remote

and closer, when imagined branches alarm

and pierce their own calm.