In walls of gray behind a crimson rose
at London's best-kept-secret theater
where outside's overcast weather torrents
and shoos us inside to coffee and beer,
she conducts harmonics through components.
An electronic box of colorful
light and sound commands her: a conduit
of otherworldly voices. Her song lifts
ocean waves, her vibrant melancholy,
subtle pings and reverberations of
autumn evenings with bright purple and green
stage props among jazz chords and drum machines.
Piano notes carry her falsetto
in icy blues and magical yellows.
