after all, it's a window...listening to bill evans

after all it's a window---why the surprise
wind rushing through the western wind-ow
dragging, yet making it to the place
where we're sitting and smiling

and nothing could shake this silly grin
i wish i could report to you all i'm thinking
yet the thoughts are coming much too quickly
this keyboard is lucky to meet up with my fingers

we're having a love at first meeting affair
with words and emotions bursting like raspberries
on the scene--how cool to be here listening

to piano licks---sweeping up the keys
like--man---we were on a treasure island
just you and me and the keys
creating fruit baskets of words---birds

sail in from the north--heading
for the southern parts
the country all lit up

in orange and red
and everything feels so alive
before it rests, and gets dead

a holiday of crunching underfoot
bass strumming--humming under
trees softly as snare drums

and that undying piano melody
leads me to grasp the indelible
sweetness---no one can

or would try to wash out the feeling-
nor create anything that is a bare
facsimile of.......pitter patter benevolence

jumping fences at night and getting away
swinging instruments below the now waxing moon
shaking weeds in the northeastern wind--telling the tune

becoming the adventure climbing up the barn
and beyond--the miles of corn
ready for popping

the pumpkin parodies in the night
a hoodlum left out without a key
it's blessed harmony
it's the sky sighing

oh my--we are in trouble
gotta tear out of this  place
before they find us fondling the corn husks
pumpkins bouncing on the gravel road

as we run rapidly catching stars
in between our teeth
mouths shining with a glow
only you would know

the adrenaline pumping
as we scurry over borders
breaking a few more rules

feeling if we could only jump
a little higher over the wooden fences
we would stay floating in the etheric field

and once again pick rocks from mars
if only in our waking dreams
if only we kept saying what we mean



Kate Lamberg
10/6/12