After the Rain
Piano opens with a crash,
trails off to reveal percussion
and bass lying just below it.
A friend is gone
and the moment is empty.
Revealing the sax,
like a lament holding
the hope that left with him.
An icy shore scoured by bitter
winter winds holds no memories.
Piano comes forward,
as if holding light after a storm,
and the sax takes a lighter tone.
Come the spring rain, voice
and thoughts once lost will return.
The cymbal’s last sound is a gentle
parting as sax and piano trail off,
as if Coltrane knows it will be alright.
About the Author: Transplanted from Western New York, Ken Gierke has lived in Missouri since 2012. His love for nature, fostered by the Niagara River, continues in Missouri and is often featured in his poetry. His writing has appeared as two micro-chapbooks from Origami Poems Project and is included in several anthologies. He has been featured by numerous online journals, including As It Ought to Be, Poetry Breakfast, Amethyst Review, Silver Birch Press, and Ekphrastic Review. Two of his poetry collections have been published by Spartan Press – Glass Awash in 2022 and Heron Spirit in 2024. His poetry can also be found on his website, https://rivrvlogr.com/.
Image Credit: Charles Ephraim Burchfield “Sunlight after the Rain” (1916) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 