Cello
It was taller than I and almost
as chubby. No wonder the other
children laughed at me as I lugged
the rented cello to school, dreamed
of poignant melodies it held in its
voluptuous curves. I put my arm
around its waist as if embracing
the woman I would become,
caressed the smooth maple of her
body but when I drew the bow
across her hollow she groaned
as if in pain.
No wonder, after only one week,
I gave up on the mournful depth
that could have been the song
of my lonely ten year old soul.
**Published in Muddy River Poetry Review Spring 2017
It was taller than I and almost
as chubby. No wonder the other
children laughed at me as I lugged
the rented cello to school, dreamed
of poignant melodies it held in its
voluptuous curves. I put my arm
around its waist as if embracing
the woman I would become,
caressed the smooth maple of her
body but when I drew the bow
across her hollow she groaned
as if in pain.
No wonder, after only one week,
I gave up on the mournful depth
that could have been the song
of my lonely ten year old soul.
**Published in Muddy River Poetry Review Spring 2017