The chocolate tasting that was scheduled for last night was postponed, so we substituted a trip to Scotties for whatever live music was there. We were surprised by some good enough jazz, played by a band named Standard Time.
There was no dance floor, the bassist was not tall and thin, and we didn't stay very late because it was a school night after all. But it still made me think about Billy Collins' poem:
from Questions About Angels
by Billy Collins
(the whole poem is at Poetry Foundation...this is just the end)
The only question you ever hear is about
the little dance floor on the head of a pin
where halos are meant to converge and drift invisibly.
It is designed to make us think in millions,
billions, to make us run out of numbers and collapse
into infinity, but perhaps the answer is simply one:
one female angel dancing alone in her stocking feet,
a small jazz combo working in the background.
She sways like a branch in the wind, her beautiful
eyes closed, and the tall thin bassist leans over
to glance at his watch because she has been dancing
forever, and now it is very late, even for musicians.
The Poetry Friday roundup today is at Dori Reads. Dance on over and enjoy today's poetry offerings!
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