All of the performers wore
crisp clean white tuxedos, so it was
difficult to tell the men from the women.
At each neck was a black bow-tie.
Around the conductor, they rushed through
the mind of Jupiter, receiving
the expected applause
(the audience made a guess of the coda).
*
In my living room, my nephew
buried his body into my chest.
He was hypnotized by the music
from Lincoln Center,
a place he could never have known.
Soon, he fell
into a calm sleep;
I conducted his hands in mine.
He was carried into his own dreams
without the order of an orchestra, or
the crisp clean white tuxedos.
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About the Creator
Kendall Defoe
Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page. No AI. No Fake Work. It's all me...
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Comments (3)
I love the picture that you've chosen to accompany this poem. Very well written!
Oh my goodness this is such a sweet little poem (and such a lovely picture - that cheeky wee smile is amazing). I love the vibe of this poem, it feels really cosy and safe and... like homey if that makes sense?
I hadn't seen this, but I love it