Bill Evans: "Here's That Rainy Day"

By Jan Zwicky

On a bad day, you come in from the weather
and lean your back against the door.
This time of year it's dark by five.
Your armchair, empty in its pool of light.

That arpeggio lifts, like warmth, from the fifth of B minor,
offers its hand - let me
tell you a story...But in the same breath,
semitones falling to the tonic:
you must believe and not believe;
that door you came in
you must go out again.

In the forest, the woodcutter's son
sets the stone down from his sack and speaks to it.
And from nothing, a spring wells,
falling as it rises, spilling out
across the dark green moss.
There is sadness in the world, it says,
past telling.  Learn stillness
if you would run clear.

Steady Drip

glacier ice(personal photo from inside the mouth of a glacier)

we turn the tap
water rushes
sloshes under ice
cascades a cry through mountains
tries to hang on to steep slopes
warning of warming
a Swiss yodel
Suzuki echo
to get our attention
as glacial meltwater spills

our thirst grows

air conditioned car
to air conditioned home
we do not see
peaks slump on the horizon
a lifetime of habits
deposited downstream

polar caps melt
we lick our parched lips