Not Quite Afternoon
for Bobby
A minute ago
his music began,
my brother alone
with his clarinet.
He plays in the kitchen
waiting for his dough to rise—
not quite afternoon,
music in the bowl.
It rains
in Mama’s garden,
drops runnels
on the window pane:
one plus one is one.
A tomato and a pear
ripen on the sill,
full notes
in yellow and red.
Can’t divide the silence
like a loaf of bread.
It always comes up
whole.
In her apple tree,
three or four drops of rain
wait their turns
to fall.
Published in World Order, Winter 1994–1995
Thought
This poem was inspired by a photograph by Josef Sudek, the Czech photographer. While at the University of Iowa, I was in the habit of ducking into the art museum at random between classes. It was probably 1983. I was passing through, hoping to be inspired. It must have been a special exhibit of Sudek’s work. One of the photographs featured a pear and an apple in the light of a window. Either the photograph or the exhibit was titled “Not Quite Afternoon.” A solo clarinet started playing in me. European. Sad. Klezmer. I borrowed the title and wrote the poem.
Here is a link to some of Sudek’s photographs.
