Here, here, a music inspired poem

Here

It’s just past midnight

And the dogs are barking,

Tethered and caged.

I stop writing to listen.

One sets off a chain,

An antiphonal chorus,

The same doggy message

Of desire and disappointment

Reaching across Europe,

Skipping the chill waves

To fetch up on the frigid

Shores of England, then

Disappearing inland.

I can hear a train.

It churns the dark sky,

Roiling the turbid clouds,

Like soup simmering

And then boiling over;

Its rhythm clamouring,

The noise thick in the air

Like a smell - cloying,

Greasy with hope,

Mechanical yet animal

In flavour.

I stop writing to listen,

My pen hovering …

It’s passing through,

People travelling

To ticketed destinations,

To faraway places.

On the radio,

The Szymanowski Quartet

Is building up momentum too,

In Elena Kats-Cherin’s For Rosa.

I close my eyes and swoon,

Carried along,

Swept downstream

By lullaby and dream,

Crossing borders, continents,

And cultures … until

The final soft braking of a violin

Brings us to a halt … a full stop

Here.

I first heard this piece on the BBC World Service, played by the Szymanowski Quartet.  However, I couldn't find their rendition on the internet, nor, when I contacted their website, could they provide me with a link.  You'll notice the title has changed, but it's essentially the same song, a lovely piece.


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