Song

[Listen to “Icarus”]

Mild tones
Hum, almost hover
In clumsy, oversized air we sing
We know Icarus like our own names

Over a grounding line
The duet
Sounds like taking off
Flying

Two unison voices
Hard to hold
Like steady wings
Make it only more beautiful

Choir comes in
Airy ahhhs push the two aloft
Every chord
A new puzzle to fit

But listen.
LISTEN.
If you don’t:
Forget it.

The path might
Put you at odds on purpose
Collision-course clash
The next note’s only sweeter

When you listen,
Fall into that space
Click: you’re hooked
For life
________________________________________

(Undead)Tim, this poem’s for you. Your soulful tenor tambre reminds me why I love singing. I only hope I’ve done that love justice here.

I adapted this poem from scenes in Thirty Decibels, my YA dystopian (yet music-happy) novel. The main character is an alto in an accomplished choir, and “Icarus” means much more to her than notes on paper.

This recording (from my alma mater’s Jazz Singers) has been with me since first hearing it fifteen years ago. From the first days of writing Thirty Decibels, the song’s been a foremost reference for the story’s mood and tone.
(To Brandon, the tenor in the opening duet: thanks for listening.)

Song credits: “Icarus,” Ralph Towner, arr. Gary Rosen, performed by University of North Texas Jazz Singers on 1995’s Geraldine.