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Sounds at Night, Oboe A 440 To Full Performance
By Dan A. Cardoza
At an old cabin near Fortuna, Ca. and the Eel River
The damp smacks its lips at the chipped window sill, made of color chiseled from teal trees so pure, the earth never sews them anymore. I am trying to sleep, but this insistent orchestra transitions from Oboe A 440 to full performance, baton to harmony. Somewhere between earth, cello, sky & harp,
Melodic notes sugar down in near silence, perfect hyaline octaves all. In the dark corridors of 2:00 AM., I strain to listen but dare not speak––buoyant. As my eyes begin to fill with sleep, a new river is born & in its genesis flows the beginning of my dreams, in waters so thick, its new name clings to its open gills. It’s then I fan open my own gills, chance to swim upriver into the deeper baptism of sleep. Sharing all this takes away the darkness & some of the hiding places where the day keeps them safe.