Tomasi’s Nocturne

There’s a motif, an eight-note phrase
That gets as close to suggesting
A quiet, slightly melancholic
Evening as any passage likely can.

Then it’s gone. The music and its recording
Move on. Since it’s a recording
And digital, it’s repeatable, replayable,

Over and over, back and back.
But each instance is yet another evening,
And how many thousands of distinct
Evenings have you lived unnoticing?