Saturday, August 28, 2004

I Could Have Played Piano ...

My long, skinny fingers

itching for things to do,

toes just barely reaching

the pedals, and my bottom

gripping the slippery edge

of the bench, I dreamed

of playing ragtime, gospel,

boogie-woogie, maybe even

some of that girl-pleasing,

tough, classical stuff.

What I did was what

seemed to come naturally.

With only one lesson,

I flung myself into all

of the old favorites,

playing each several times

before going exuberantly

to the next. Finally,

Grandpa admitted he was

sorry he had taught me

what could be wrought

with a comb and paper.

Oh, I could have played

piano, no doubt, but my lips

wouldn't feel all numb

and fuzzy, like they do now.

© 1997

(originally published in Midwest Poetry Review)

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Aromatherapy ...

The freshness

after summer rain,

honeysuckle wafting,

pie still bubbling,

smoke of a wood fire,

that new-car smell.

In a former time,

our aromatherapy.

© 1996

(originally published in Capper's)

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Running the Hurdles ...

Have you

ever noticed

how many more

things go wrong

when you're trying

to get away

early, or make up

for lost time?

© 1997

(originally published in Capper's)