eavesdropper

eavesdropper
i have been
on the chords of a weekday night organ
drifting from a church door ajar.
A trombone once called
like a soulful beast
from an upstairs window,
its whine entwined
among the leaves
of a tree arching near.
The little grunt
between the lines
of a recorded song,
the singer not performing,
snags my heart.
The loon and the whale
are calling out -
they steal the lead from the stars;
trickling piano notes
from a long-ago soul
play on so cleanly.