WHY HE ASKED
Bereft of family, his only voice
a sax that created a neighborhood
of lost love and no future,
he slipped into memory where his story
was etched into daguerreotypes,
sketches of abandonment and hints of fading
emotion, with a melancholy soundtrack
that brushed listeners’ minds and hearts
with whispers of all he once had
and now has not, save in notes
imperfectly stored on decaying,
soon to be discarded, technology.
Whenever he heard the music, sitting
alone in some derelict room, he
wondered how his wandering life
had brought him to this dim
grotto of shadows and loss.
BILL EVANS PLAYS DANNY BOY
The heart whispers “Danny Boy,” and the pianist’s fingers
softly slip into the familiar tune with grace, precision,
and quiet yearning for a vanished lover who will not return,
and an emotional outpouring peaks,
and subsides into an intimate wistful recital
of a heart’s hopes forever lost in distance
and time, and acceptance which is not
acceptance drifts into a still grotto.
Michael L. Newell is a retired secondary school English/Theatre teacher who has lived one-third of his life abroad on five continents. He is passionate about a wide range of music, jazz being a particular favorite. He now lives on the south-central Oregon coast.