Saxophone, trees and moonlightI have heard you play your saxophoneSaxophone, trees and moonlight6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
late at night; your languid notes permeate
the foliage-fingers outside my window,
and keep me from my sleep.
The moonlight is thin, the clustered trees, dense;
and still you play your saxophone
and still I seek you, though I cannot see you,
I am hatching plans,
and three trees are already gone:
One, large, has been felled by a storm;
its trunk had been rotten for some time.
Uprooted now from its platonic soil-embrace, it withers in exposure.
(And still you play your saxophone).
Another has died from age, its leafless frame no longer
a modest screen, intercessor
between my window and the world.
(And still I seek you, though I cannot see you).
The third tree I have hacked to pieces myself
with only the small hatchet I possess
I am hatching plans.
And three trees are already gone.
And still I seek you
though I cannot see you,
and still you play your saxophone,
and still you keep me from my sleep.