Monthly Archives: June 2016

Red Eyelids

Bass Clef mid-F, in eighths.
Bass Clef mid-F, final quarter.
Salute completed, we stand.
To the left a head panned.

Those eyes contained
Unmistakable pain.
Pain at my performance?
Pain at my conformance?

The show must go on.

Standing, Bass Clef top line, staccato,
Then drop an octave, staccato; final note.
Applause.
But still the pain gives me pause.

It was the dry throat,
I tell myself.
It was the sloped chair or stage,
I want to believe.

But my lips, not the stage,
Missed the notes.
My finger, not the chair,
Depressed the wrong valve.

Show concluded,
We pack up and depart.
I watch for those red eyes,
But they don’t look at me.

My silence? Unintended;
Trying to fathom
What I cannot see.
Do I misunderstand?

Rough knuckles,
White back of hand,
In close proximity;
Moment in time ever on my mind.

Copyright © 2016 H.K. Longmore

For Whom Doth The Bell Ring?

Dear Diary,

Today was pretty ordinary for a Saturday.
Friday night, up late I did stay;
Helped little sis resolve emotions in disarray.

Slept ’till nearly noon.
Fixed a porch light whilst listening to tunes;
Backyard safer when missing full clair de lune.

Pruned,
Watered,
Adjusted,
Cleaned.

Let “social media” steal some time,
And though I could probably come up with a better rhyme,
‘Tis true, bought dinner at Taco Time.

Dressed for a game of ultimate.
For nearly two hours by my estimate,
‘Till we could feel it in the gut:

Played,
Aspired,
Perspired;

Well after dark to home retired.
But then my synapses fired:

To the store I would go—
Father’s day feast tomorrow you know;
And my gas tank was getting low.

While refueling I chose to clean
My rear window, restore its dark sheen;
When from behind, with no lamplight gleam

A suburban toward me came.
I thought it odd the lights were off; perhaps a game?
If so, I knew not its name.

The suburban veered,
Clear of me and mine it steered.
I resumed my cleaning, but soon peered.

Thought the resting spot odd,
But returned to cleaning with a mental nod.
Just then passed a male bod,

Hurrying to where his car had lodged.
He entered, ignited, and massaged
To return it to the spot from whence it dislodged.

As he exited, I finally saw;
My eyes filled with awe
As from the ground I gathered my maw:

‘Twas no other on the inside.
In utter surprise at my elide,
I approached the man, wide-eyed.

“Was there no one in there all along?”
He confirmed. I shared my side, then so long;
While in my mind there formed a plainsong,

Methought I heard the cash register’s “ding-dong”.
Did I say today was ordinary? That word does not belong
To a day where my life was miraculously prolonged.

© 2016 H.K. Longmore