I listen to Rachmaninoff’s “Lilacs”,
his own 1942 recording,
delicate crystal touch, and I think back
to your delicate crystal touch. Sorting
through my own notes, I wonder about his
unknown “white lilacs lady,” her bouquets
sent to his every concert—the way this
must have intrigued his heart, guided the way
his long fingers caressed those Steinway keys,
how his rhythmic patterns inspire my long
fingers to caress your lilac skin. Please
listen to him listening to his song—
as I listen to myself when I write
poems to you these crystal lilac nights.
Roger Armbrust
September 30, 2014
