as the echoing strings played out,

the tuner halted, amazed

by the bend,

trained ears following familiar trails, phrases

departing time signatures,

anticipating the sweet simplicity of it all,

heeding the ritual of those musicians who came before,

and offering his hands to wash,

water pitcher and cotton towel at hand

like fingers searching sandy beaches,

his eyes closed as if predicting the movement of clouds,

the harmonic celebration of this process,

the coming on anyhow clarity of sound

right out here,

ears to see

eyes to hear

St. Louis, 1972