After the quartet (for Phillip Adams)

After the quartet:

As one long note, bowed to thinning silence,

We politely held applause, watched these magicians

Who flout all laws of natural science,

And float above our quiet adulation.

We got home, drawn of emotion, that such

Profound things as these could be given

To a silence that filled an empty hall before,

Then put the radio on, in the want of more.

We listened to Chopin and the rain as ever

Poured, in this neck of wood, strummed, lapping

Ceaseless - almost, then came perceived calm,

I realized, of course, it was the audience clapping;

Matching the rain in it’s random pattern,

And indistinguishable from the downpour

After the last and finest thinning note

Had been lightly given, to rain, to listener

And all who adored, endured, held scores

By degrees we soared, then fell like sopranos,

From warm to cold, to cease,

In the freezing seethe that grips us

Heart-held , astonished after an old song

Had ebbed, loved, watched learned,

And left the audience cold, in space

Yet within, fired and in spite of all weather

Yearning to stay in that time, that flow, in place.