Day 87 – Ob-La-Di

CheneyPoetry1 Comment

Today three older ladies came into the bookstore
and after a while one of them sat down
at the piano and began playing some songs.

All of them were upbeat and cheerful
and her voice strained over the blaring of the keys
she pounded with joy I couldn’t imagine.

I can’t imagine sitting down in front of strangers
putting my hands to keys and playing music
that anyone would want to hear.

I will never be a piano player, I know
I will never know the feel of ivory under my skin
and it’s like I wish I’d want to.

You let go of some dreams when you get older,
you know? You forget about being an astronaut or a doctor
and you resign yourself to being yourself.

I can sit quietly in the corner of the room
while my daughter dances around the loud piano
imagining herself playing the music, imagining herself.

And I will listen and keep wondering what I can do
that gives me the feeling of performing and being
appreciated for beauty and bravery.

Writing words and slinging them into the web, that’s okay
for now, if that’s all i can do
ob-la-di, ob-la-da

Life goes on brah.

One Comment on “Day 87 – Ob-La-Di”

  1. you’re already brave to do a poem a day for a year. “imagining herself playing the music, imagining herself.” is a very nice touch.

    Regards,

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