Friday, July 3, 2009

violin boy

My neighbor's kid is
feeling the navigation maps
between four strings
and hearing the difference
in naturals and sharps.

His parents applaud from
a tiny window, their love
drifting to my shower curtain,
leaking onto my body wash

like a thousand squeaky notes.
I wonder if this is revenge for
8 years ago, when I always
kept the windows wide open
and liked crescendos a lot.

When "twinkle, twinkle" was
a force to be reckoned with at
holiday party. Now, I rely on charms
and orange-smelling, smooth skin.

1 comment:

  1. Beautifully written and beautifully felt. I hope you don't mind, but I posted this on my blog because I liked it so much :)


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