PARKER AND CHOPIN
Sat among writers and candles tonight at a poetry reading in the village.
Blue stage lights dotted the tiny ceiling above every reader and healthy applause was reserved for all.
I read a short poem about Coltrane and Bach and their ability to alleviate the stress of crowded, airless New York City subway elevators in an instant.
Stepped outside into the last light of day and onto the train home where I imagined our subway rides scored to Parker and Chopin.
