Night rolls in; sun dips under
Fireflies blink their lights delicately
On and off, on and off
Crickets come in with their chirping
A running brook gurgles water over rocks
Bull frog sounds it horn
Sweet tones comes to my hears
As pen on paper musical words
Fly upon the page in verse
Bringing out a poet’s nightly poem
Under the weeping willow
Leaves bristle a huanting tune
As wind blows through their branches
Forming my poem to right crescendo
Then pen lifts finish with final note
Nightly music sounds pause for brief silence
Before returning to their nightly musical song
Sweet melody of faint music
Down distant street I hear.
Notes flowing up my way
In a jazzy kind of beat.
Hear the rhythm of blues
Makes me bounce along the street.
Closer I get to music crooning
More I would like to hear.
Around a corner I finally reach
Music, I hear what a beat.
A music player, playing a saxophone,
Jazzing along to his own rhythmic song.
I stopped to listen to his melody;
Took out my sticks to join the beat.
Our sound carried on the winds
People heard and stopped right through.
Fingers fly fast upon keys
Notes exhale out from back
White keys which gleam pressed down
Pop-up fast as fingers move along
Black keys wait until its their turn
They see fingers press them down
Notes are made into chords
Music from the piano
Come alive; entrance all who listens
To its sweet, haunting melody
Different musics respond to knocked-on silences
Which come out the blue from many sources
As the rattling of shutters during a tornado
A clicking of paws against wall from a sleeping dog
Or creaking floor from my kitchen
The brushing against the window from a tree branch
The breaking of twigs while walking through the park
Or hearing soft click click from computer’s keyboard
The abrupt start of pattering rain against the windows
Showering down unexpectedly while I hear from inside
Strumming crickets at night come alive with their song
Music comes from silence from anywhere at anytime
I hear many throughout my day
April 3, 2015 poetry: Gridley’s poem says, “Different musics respond to knocked-on silences” and she describes two – boats and wings. Begin with her quote and describe a list of such musics. Here are a few starters: twigs, keyboards, tambourines, claves, door jambs, ice.