Moving in to an Empty Space

Moving in to an Empty Space is a setting of three poems by the composer's sister, Sue Susman: Hot Time, Begging the Night for Change and, Moving in to an Empty Space.

1. HOT TIME

Hot time

this summer in the city

in the artificial light of the street.

At night people scurry and run together in packs.

Too many rats in the cage.

Running towards something in the distance,

in the dark;

something hidden from sight,

something they cannot name.

They come here to hunt and groan

in hot dark rooms filled with sweating, hungry bodies,

dancing with fever into the morning.

And as the music blasts into flashing strobe-lights,

the walls begin to swell and breathe.

There are bodies on the street tonight,

each with its own hidden secret.

You can choose one to take home with you.

You can go on alone.

You can help yourself.

Steal into the night. No one can find you.

You become invisible in the dark,

invisible to others who may want to hurt you;

invisible even to yourself.

2. BEGGING THE NIGHT FOR CHANGE

She approached me in the supermarket’s parking lot,

a tired-looking woman with a worn-out face,

asking if I had any change.

And as I shook my head,

I felt the dimes and nickels burrow deeper in my pocket,

felt my back stiffen, my hands curl into fists.

I couldn’t look her in the face

and so I hurried on,

shaking my head to lose the fear

that one day she could be me,

talking to strangers in parking lots,

alone in the street, unknown and unseen,

begging the night for change.

3. MOVING IN TO AN EMPTY SPACE

Tonight I stood watching the stars

twinkling through the bare branches.

The air is cold and I am alone

here in this quiet faraway place.

And I am at peace, in myself,

still somewhat afraid.

I stood watching the night sky,

as if it would change,

as if the tiny white lights would move

or rearrange themselves

the better to please my eye.

But there was no change; the night was fixed,

immutable and cold.

I am a shifting star, fallen down

from the vast empty blackness

to burn on the earth.

I look up to see where I came from.

And the lights return my gaze.

There is no message, no sound

just the silent reflection of my own face

shining in the night to remind me

Copyright material from Sue Susman reprinted with kind permission.

© 1992 Sue Susman