It’s a typical Saturday night. The restaurant’s packed. I’m well into the first movement of “Moonlight Sonata” when she walks in: short hair, wearing long gloves—yes, long gloves, like a young Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, only blonde. She takes a quick look around, speaks briefly with the maitre d’, and stands near the entrance for the longest time. I play “Moon River.” Finally, she’s seated at a table, glances at her phone and sets it down. She sits there for the longest time without ordering, only taking an occasional sip of water, never again picking up her phone. I’ve seen the scene countless times before. I play “Blue Moon” and wonder, does she know I’m playing for her? Finally, she orders a glass of wine. It sits there for the longest time without her taking a sip. I break my cardinal rule and look her directly in the eyes—and though she’s maybe fifty feet from me, our eyes meet, and we smile for the longest time. I play “You Are My Sunshine.” Yes, she knows.
Long Night Moon
I’m so lonesome
I could cry
was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1949. An award-winning poet, he is the creator of the Written Word Album™ (Soliana Publications) and author of the four volumes of The Seasons Suite: Momentary Vagrant, Purview of the Sky, Leaves of Entropy, and Dreams and Other Lastings; as well as other works of drama, lyrics, poetry, and prose. His latest chapbook equinox/solstice: Haibun Variations is forthcoming in 2022. His works have appeared in numerous publications, including Haibun Today, OPEN: Journal of Arts & Letters, and contemporary haibun online. He and his wife, Lisa, live in Southern California.
Author’s website: www.rjsobel.com