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Strange People—Beautiful Manners

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In the film “Mrs. Henderston Presents,” Dame Judi Dench’s character says to a courteous young American G.I., “You’re an American, …

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Literature »

A Winter Idyll

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It snowed in the night,
And I woke in a room filled with
Moonlight and silver,
Shaded with indigo,
Radiant with wintry fire.
I knew without looking—
It had snowed in the night.

The moonbeams drifted across the floor,
Pale and searching,
Bright without warmth,
Moving and seeking,
Soundless as death.
I watched you in slumber,
As the moonbeams crept across the floor.

The moments moused by as I watched,
Your face touched with silver
And blue in the burnished night,
Serene and moveless—
A snow-covered landscape,
Your warmth enveloping me.
The moments slipped by as I watched.

The moonlight, sieved into fragments,
Floated across your face,
Radiant bands
Patiently moving.
Changeless as time
And inexorable as ice
Was the moonlight, burst into fragments.

You woke, and stirred—
“Were you watching me again?”
I smiled—“Of course.”

One strand of moonlight lay across your lips,
Warmth under coldness,
Life beneath stillness.
“Kiss me,” you murmured, and
As I leaned toward you,
Caught, like a ribbon of silver,
A thread of lost music,
A seal of gold,
Was one strand of moonlight, between our warm lips.

R.A. Moulds, 1993

The Willow and the Wind

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On Saturday, May 5, at 7 pm, the Binghamton Community Orchestra will be performing the very first of my Leyendas …

That I May Forget That I Am

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Anyone who has worked with me on performances or recordings should be able to tell you how very uncomfortable I …

All of the People, All of the Time

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Plaza Mayor, Madrid

It seems my secret is out at last. Having worked on Los Fantasmas de la Plaza Mayor for more years than I …

A Burning Party

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Considering that my last meditation, so to speak, was all about looking forward and not backward, it is a bit …

…and I—I took the road most travelled by.

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Paddington Station, London

I suppose it’s that time of year when it is traditional to look back on the past year and indulge …

Wo ist der Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr?

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I was recently reminded once more of how I am out of touch with contemporary popular culture when I stumbled …