From the safety of your knee
the garden was a wilderness
a wildness to explore,
a Neverland of whispering leaves
frogs chirruping from the pond;
an oasis amidst tarmac
concrete, brick, and mortar;
an otherwhere – escape,
the scene of slowest summer.
He singles in on the gentle trickle of gin over ice cubes, and the hummingbird thrum of metal skimming glass as the bartender mixes a drink. He blocks everything else out until this tiny alcoholic waterfall is the only sound in the world. And then, beat by beat, and with controlled countenance, he lets the noises of the evening back in. Continue reading “Listening to Miles Davis on a Bus in Argentina”
Cal Bannerman 