From the Balcony He Watched Music Pour from Silver

He did not speak.
He heard the simulacrum
of sine wave enlist his sadness.
Apart from her he felt the music
take her place. She took a sample
of the melody, released it to the room.
They each would walk away.

The place from which he watched
was never filled with tune.
He sensed the needle draw
the faculty of hearing forward,
form a line from her to him.

She noticed how the music left her
to become the music and the instrument
he had been hearing all his life.
Along the staves a stammer left
the little hill of whole notes
clear, considered full, as if
to parse a sostenuto.