Little Night Music
by Charles Simic
Of neighbors' voices and dishes
Being cleared away
On long summer evenings
With the windows open
As we sat on the back stairs,
Smoking and sipping beer.
The memory of that moment,
So sweet at first,
The two of us chatting away,
Till the stars made us quiet.
We drew close
And held fast to each other
As if in sudden danger.
That one time, I didn't recognize
Your voice, or dare turn
To look at your face
As you spoke of us being born
With so little apparent cause.
I could think of nothing to say.
The music over, the night cold.
Of neighbors' voices and dishes
Being cleared away
On long summer evenings
With the windows open
As we sat on the back stairs,
Smoking and sipping beer.
The memory of that moment,
So sweet at first,
The two of us chatting away,
Till the stars made us quiet.
We drew close
And held fast to each other
As if in sudden danger.
That one time, I didn't recognize
Your voice, or dare turn
To look at your face
As you spoke of us being born
With so little apparent cause.
I could think of nothing to say.
The music over, the night cold.
Being born with no apparent cause... just not possible IMHO, but great poem.
ReplyDeleteFound this poem had a huge gravity..... lovd the read, cheers!
ReplyDeleteRemarkable what he managed to do in a few short lines. I love this poem.
ReplyDeleteAnd with just one careless line, the magic is gone.
ReplyDeleteLovely. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteVery powerful. Tender. Appropriate. Memorable.
ReplyDeleteSimilar to the memorial service held this morning...
ah, the magic of the night captured so simply.....nice stuff, jack
ReplyDeleteThat deft twist into chill. Whew! (And connecting it to the murky, almost unclean staged sadness drumming at us from the pop media today . . .)
ReplyDeleteLovely and sad - and ode to what is going to be missed.
ReplyDelete