The last day of June; Mahler’s Third playing
Inside the laptop on which I type this
They’ve played them all at the Bridgewater Hall
Recently, a series I sadly missed
Part laziness, part no-one to go with
I try to listen sometimes in the car
To his long, often complex symphonies
But though I’m moving, I don’t get too far
In appreciating their beauty there
On motorways I hear brass thundering
But am deaf to those quiet spells of bliss
And introspection of which they are full
You almost have to devote an evening
No, many, to try to familiarise
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