TIME SPENT

Time spent
on a park bench
composing a sonata
in B major
for clarinet and piano
in the French quarter
of an hour of my era
in New Orleans
without regret
hearing a refrain
in the riffs Coltrane
by a crooked street
it starts to rain
in the last days
of November
my dawn in knots
at a cabinet of memory
in forget-me-nots
of nostalgia.