for Garin and Shadla
 
I dreamed I saw 
    Ray Brown last night,
        the fingers of his right 
 
hand as light-filled
    as pin feathers in flight, 
        his left hand measuring 
 
out the limestone-
    fissured strata of 
        sound, one note 
 
after another, land-
    scape and song
        entirely coincident