this beautiful night
- Posted July 11, 2010 by Julia Gotz Viewed 7414 times
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At dusk I walked to the park in Kensington market - a place I go where I feel a part of this city. I'd sat for a time before heading home. On Nassau street I heard music which felt like it was coming from inside me - a piano melody like a rolling wave, tender and endless. The piano was at the edge of the cafe fence, almost on the sidewalk, and there were a few standing to listen. I was going to walk slowly past, but someone asked me to stay, as if knowing I needed to hear the invitation. The music unfolded, unwound, and said everything. I sat until the cafe manager had to close the place. The pianist told him he doesn't have a piano at home, and they agreed he could come back to play again. For the rest of the way home, I felt different, and so many people needed to say something as we passed each other on the street. ‘beautiful night, isn’t it?' Beautiful night.
I build my house of straw.
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