Takacs-Yang Ghazal

Even my big black truck's windshield wipers made music
while I peered through the smears at the lines on the mountain road

First they played Haydn's "Rider" and we tried to sit still
but applause broke out between movements and the cellist smiled

Next was tricky, Bartok's number five, arching dissonance
and spooky sounds of night mixed in with a melancholy or longing

At intermission, the retired bookseller said he liked the first one —
but the second, too raucous. I thought of the miles the quartet had traveled

Dvorak's piano quintet with the young feisty pianist came last
forty-five minutes that lasted three days or a rapid plunk on the viola

We stood right away, we cheered, we roared and shouted for more
you know how greedy we get