I Can
See
The
Master
As
He
Plays,
Alive
Again,
Arms
Outstretched,
He
Gazes
Elsewhere,
And
Not
At
The
Keys.
A
Big
Man,
Grown
Heavy
With
Age,
The
Music
A
Controlled
Rage
Of
Passionate
Art,
Totally,
Completely,
Owns
My
Heart.
The
Concerto
Ends
And
With
A
Subtle
Laugh,
He
Dissolves
Once
More
Into
A
Photograph.