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Tuesday rehearsal, the first hymn
Thirty voices, one piano and a warm-up that never changes.
An afternoon on the festival stage
A guest solo with the choir behind me, in the sun.
The sanctuary at morning
Light through the tall windows before anyone arrives.
Fifty years of the same hymnal
A worn book, a pencil and the pages I turn to first.
Walking the aisle before a service
A quiet minute with the pews and a cream suit.
Mid-song, eyes closed
One verse, filmed up close, with nothing else on.
Free
Notes from the loft
Concert dates, a hymn I am working on and a line from the Tuesday rehearsal, a day before anyone else.