Music Lessons






In our one-room school house, all the grades had music together. In my private piano lessons I was learning about quarter notes and whole notes, rests and tempo, so much of what we learned at school, I was already learning in my piano lessons.

Sometimes at school we pushed our desks together. This poem was a memory about those times when I sat with my friend who was even smaller for her years than I was.

Picture this in your mind.



The music lessons

the teacher tells us
about half notes   quarter notes
rests and tempo

in my bumper-to-bumper desk fit tight to yours
we beat out patterns on aging wood
our feet barely touching the floor

 treble clef  
             the lacy clef that our mothers sing
bass   the big “C”
            the notes our daddies sing

 andantino
it’s dancing music
legato
and I whisper “slowly now”


The teacher’s fingers
dance across  the blacks and whites

an octave would be too much
for your small hands   
even mine barely make it

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