Farewell to a Musician by Bascom, George S., M.D.

 $Unique_ID{AST00220}

$Title{Farewell to a Musician}

$Author{Bascom, George S., M.D.}

$Subject{poetry}

$Journal{}

$Volume{}

$Date{1982}

$Log{}

                                 LATE ASTERS

                           Farewell to a Musician

We occupied the pews like immigrants,

Felt the polished hardwood with our backs,

Shifted cautiously,

Waited for the funeral directors

To tell us when to speak,

When to rise and where to sit.

They were at home, but we, like wops,

Huddled and confused,

Anxious to please,

Felt our necks go stiff.

The encomiast and reader tried.

They called for God,

But He, it seemed, had missed the boat.

We are used to desolation

So we did not weep.

We crossed our legs and waited for the end.

A cellist tuned his strings

In a disorder echoing our doubts.

Then Bach rose from his bow.

Those dark rich tones

Startled to sudden flight

A flock of pale religious fancies.

The Holy Spirit walked in

Like a red headed sailor

Bringing wind and fresh salt air

Into the sanctum of anxiety,

Amused at queues and quietness,

Ignoring protocol, disdaining signs,

Free as a gull from stiff, self conscious reverence

And Ellis Island piety.

Such unexpected brashness

At the gates of this new land

Gave heart to us.

Even the undertaker listened

While God sang.