Arpeggio flare. The nun’s high cry that springs not fail. The swell quietened, the unseen swing of the sea.
A jaunty solitude. Madge and what her friend dared not think when young. Margery with them, tight-lipped at the knowing.
A smaller rolled chord. Weep for wonder, in a life disputed decades afterwards, at the kindness, the wholeness, of this shining night.
The fourth song has a lot of sharps and naturals all over it. Sometimes, to be clever, I’ve compared our diet to music with a shifting tonal centre, “like something by Samuel Barber”. I was surprised that the first three songs of the set, when I looked at the music, didn’t have that many more key changes than songs by other people. Barber said the music for this fourth song just popped out – not laboured, then – but admitted he wasn’t all that keen on the text.
The first three songs are jaw-dropping.
Aidan Baker is a retired librarian living in Cambridge, England. His
poems have appeared in numerous outlets printed and online, notably
the magazine _Orbis_ and projects from the writers’ group 26
Characters. Twitter @AidanBaker
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