Muffled in a deep coat of down
He pretends patience
His eyes whip their gaze around
The only thing swift
Save the leaves scrambling over his frozen feet
His elbows pulse in stillness, fixed familiar angles
Hands are parked in pockets deep and warm
But they are cold in the bones
The great, wide cloaked personage of impending fall
Taunts him with offensive sunlight
Washing out the details when his eyes come to rest
But he is resolute in waiting
In his skull somewhere a voice wonders
Has the bus forgotten about him.

This was a gorgeous evening of dance and music, part of the 2011 Chicago World Music Festival.  I played keyboards for the 3-part musical suite musically directed by Carlo Basile of Las Guitarras de Espana.  The piece featured movement and sound  from the worlds of modern jazz & dance, flamenco, and Indian and African contributions from the evening’s previous ensembles.