Counting the keys
one places one’s finger
or thumb, I forget
piano lessons were
at the age of six
That was forty-four
years ago
I have reached
Middle C
and I am becoming
comfortable in that
place
It is pouring rain
outside
the kind of downpour
that brings on Autumn
it will be cooler
tomorrow
In the cusp
right between the
seasons of
summer and
autumn
I continue
to hear
Middle C
What a sweet note
when one places one’s
finger
or is it the thumb...
I have forgotten
Nevermind.
11 comments:
I appreciated that one... especially since I've already reached Middle C plus 5 years! ; )
You have a real inborn talent for poetry, Roberta. Such a fine talent indeed. This one is multi-layered and in its pensiveness, reflects a solitary romantic mood.
Beautiful!
:::APPLAUSE:::
I don't hand it out often
That was lovely. And what a sweet way to look at Middle C (SO clever, by the way - I admire your cleverness with that).
I recently had a bit of a funny do thinking about reaching Middle C (just over 2 years to go) and became very low about it, but I like your sentiments much more.
Roberta, I hope you don't mind, Ihave sent a link to this poem to Frank Wilson at Books Inq.
I thought it beautiful and poignant, thank you!
Found you through Amin btw
The comments here from around the world have overwhelmed me!
Thank you!
I have long since past middle C and well on my way to G, I think there is one. What a sweet writing. One of my favorites.
xoxo
Absolutely beautiful! One of your best.
Roberta, I found you through Amin. He was right, I like this. Encouraging for one nearing "the Middle C".
Wonderful poem, Roberta - I loved it - it says it all.
I found a link to your blog from Amin's "Write Now" and boy was he right, this is a beautiful poem indeed!
Post a Comment