Mary Beth Hines, Winter at a Summer House
First Love
I chose you
all onyx shine
and glittering
silver keys, secret
hollows, flared
bell mouth, you,
my girlhood
B-flat clarinet,
nickel-plated
ligature, sweet
reeds splintering
my aspirational
embouchure,
so many
extravagant words
to curl my moody
tongue around.
My very first
infatuation lingered
an entire decade—
scales, études,
fantasias, and
Mr. Maier’s weekly
lessons that went
beyond arpeggios
to breath control,
improvisation, trill
keys, espressivo.
We lasted through
the seventies, climaxing
with that Helliwell solo
on Breakfast in America,
afterwards nowhere
meaningful left to go.
I'm on the mend from my injury but still some way to go with physio before I'm back to normal. There's a backlog of emails to tackle so feedback from me will be a slower than usual.
It's not easy getting a book or pamphlet accepted for review these days. So in addition to the regular review section, the One Poem Review feature will allow more poets' to reach a wider audience - one poem featured from a new book/pamphlet along with a cover JPG and a link to the publisher's website. Contact the editor if you have released a book/pamphlet in the last twelve months or expect to have one published. Details here
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