Neighbours have secret musical society. Yep.

It would be about
Second week in June.
Her windows open for
As much breeze as
Could be gathered.
I always managed to
Open Grandad’s living
Room window opposite.
He didn’t want her to notice.
Cream curtains drawn
Three-quarters.
He was widowed. (4 years alone).
She was a spinster.
Not much connection.
Just collect each other’s mail.
Accept deliveries, when desired.
Called upon the same teenager
For mowing the lawn, shoveling.
Ken Roberts, Veteran and Miss Bedgegood.
Acquainted.
But summers’ evenings
She took to the keyboard.
Quite ably.
Rachmaninoff.
OK, so start off with the easy stuff.
NOT.
It was spectacular.
Chopin, well why not?
He would be pleased.
Hero of Poland.
Roger Williams pop stuff, show tunes.
Floyd Kramer.
But not too flippant.
Miss Bedgegood did not do flippant.
On a night when
she might be weak or tired
Or impatient.
We would hear discordant smashes.
On the keys.
Suppressing grins.
Or trying to continue
Our reading
Or cribbage game.
The three of us had
This nice little society
Without a name.
One Saturday night she came to our door.
All smiles (unusual phenomenon).
Grandad had slipped an album
Of Arthur Fiedler Boston
Pops Orchestra
Into her entrance.
Picked it up at Heintzman’s Music.
He didn’t own
A phonograph.
Still six weeks until autumn chills.
Windows then shut.
So why not?
Perhaps in another week or so
Roger Whittaker?
Leaving Durham Town?
Camelot musical score?