The Haydn quartet came at me like an enveloping cloud
full of memory, all so familiar, all evoking the years past.
The strings resonated in my chest, not in my ears which
usually thrum to tell me how good it is.
No judgement was possible tonight. I was possessed.
And with the music came his voice,
commenting on the playing, “Hey, that’s one terrific fiddler –
lovely viola sound, there’s my favorite part.”
This music played in our living room
a hundred times in all those many years.
They played, laughed, broke down at a hard spot,
started over with passion.
Maybe the vibrations in my chest went home to him,
lying in bed, silent and quiet. Maybe they sang to him,
bringing back the love that was his nature,
the spark that was his soul .