Music and the Years

We trade hours of practice

for those occasional few seconds

when everything really works:

harmony and cadence joining forces,

locking down perfection for an instant,

always wishing there were more.

This time those instants fused,

becoming phrases, whole songs

boring a hole into our core.

Long after the clapping ceased

the sound would not let me go.

It went on singing, in brain and soul,

its memory invading me night and day.

Not a re-creation, but a reminder,

that what had been was still alive.

Other concentration seemed impossible.

I ignored that, craving the invasion.

It diminished, then faded, of course,

and life’s common moments seeped in.

Yet, even retreating, music left an opening

in the softly-walled space where it waits.

And, faint now, I hear it everywhere.

Charles B. Neff

November 10, 2013