Later on, she taps the snare. I think then she’s not drumming: she’s looking for the glimmer and echo of her movement on the drum. I forget how Reverberations 8 ends. As people were leaving I was sitting looking at the stage hearing the echo of Alègre’s words and I heard many...
One hunter bore a handled pan, With fatty pine-knots filled, and ran Before the rest. His resined light In dancing spurts of flame made bright The forest near and, darker still, The pitchy black beyond, until Two feeble lights appeared, the eyes Of frightened deer in stunned surprise, ...