Adagio at Sunrise / Judith Grissmer

I climb stairs

to a loft overlooking the sea—
before anyone awakens,
sit in your chair

drawn to inhabit
the mystery of
your music last night,
wind sounds blending
with breeze.

Your book is open
to the first movement of
Beethoven’s Sextet for Winds,
bassoon asleep in its case,
reeds in their box ready
for moistening,
metronome
remembering rhythm.

For a brief moment I dwell
in the sweet adagio prelude
to a world
of your own
composition.

For a granddaughter, age 12