That Note

The man is singing and dancing,

slides a black forefinger around the rim

of a drawn-down hat – a step out, a step to the left –

and lowers and raises his eyes.

He is watching us watch him; watching him glide

and writhe in his jumpsuit – and the music

rolls and he adds breath and timbre and the slow song

slips and slides and dances and it is then –

eyes lowered for you, darling – we know he is

singing to us: we know, and we step back

and close our own eyes and look up, to imagine

that note, that beautiful thing, aloft forever

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