Clark Terry's Ballads Poem by Hans Ostrom

(recording: Clark After Dark)



Come inside, where it's mellow dusk

and bourbon brown. I can turn it into noon

at any time, then back to blurry twilight. All

right, come outside- look: red, yellow, and blue

blossoms still want to be seen. Listen



to vespering birds, hear wordless

words of traffic, of trees in rustle

and streets in hustle. Back inside

we'll take note of desire, climb a set

of stairs, so easily. We might be



caught unawares by something sweet

smiling there in mischievous shadows.

It could be us in mirror. It could be

a woman or a man or a ghost. Or just

the house itself, itself, listening.





hans ostrom 2020