1.
  
 Last night in the dark I listened to Schumann,
 I listened and took notice of my listening.
  
 In the house adjacent this, a man and wife 
 had built a fire, and while I listened to 
  
 my listening I heard their children scream
 with such delight I’d never heard: in orange
  
 and for it, in the meaning of unusual,
 all of them surrounding and surrounded.
  
 2.
  
 It was “Spring Symphony” and nearing fall,
 and I noted both of absence and becoming 
  
 in the music. Their littlest toddler peered 
 through a gap in the wall; the others danced,
  
 for summer is still summer here and the figs
 fall even in the dark. Figs are summer 
  
 and fall, thrall and transport, like Schumann,
 like a symphony when it peaks and flutters.