after hearing “Crescent Noon” performed by The Carpenters
Rarely played fifty years after, “Crescent Noon”
elicits a gasp. My gasp. How can it be? Released
in ’70, this song deserves remembering. Yet
there it is, abandoned relic on Side 2 of your
second album, famous for the smash hit singles
“Close To You” and “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
Like an archaeologist who scrapes sand from a rock
and uncovers a pyramid, I lay claim to this discovery.
Your vocals so smooth, elegant. John Bettis’ lyrics—
so mysterious, tantalizing, an oblique analogy, comparing
the passing of seasons to the stages of an ill-fated
love affair. I see in Richard’s melancholy piano
and evocative melody a ballerina twirling slowly atop
a music box. I savor the thrill of my find, but the feeling
fades as I read internet evidence others have already asked,
why isn’t this song more popular? Comment replies
range from too slow and sad to overshadowed by
the hit singles. I surrender my claim, remember migrants
from Siberia discovered America before Columbus. But
I cling to my conviction “Crescent Noon” deserves better.
And I revel in unearthing a klatch of Carpenters fans even
more passionate than me. Where do I sign the guestbook?
First appeared in Letters to Karen Carpenter and Other Poems
Richard Allen Taylor, Poet 