I practiced for seven years;
it follows me, a devoted dog
that asks me to play…
PoemADay
the music sways
your hands follow…
why do we say
we’ll be in touch…
I want him to have had made the right choice
in the worst circumstances, to have chosen
what seemed to be evil but for the greater good…
I may not know
what time
it is, or what time
you wanted to meet…
pulled under,
only remedy is dodge sideways…
the bow dips and scrapes
I ache and know now why they…
and don’t just listen,
feel it,
feel it in your feet,
let your toes tap…
First of all, how dare
you tell me what to do
Secondly, you squeezed….
your fingers brush my palm
outward, outward, again, again…
Daily Poets 