First Recital - A Poem for My Mother

First Recital

She pulled the sash tight, the organza bow
perfect, my petticoats stiff, ego
inflated enough to face the music.

Fingers, not yet long enough to add elegance
to sound, hunt with precision,
echoing the road map in my mind's ear
as I play a remarkable Flight of the Bumble-bee.

Second row, third seat left
she sits next to Dad,
hands clutched against her breast
praying me through.

I bow instead of curtsey
though we've drilled for days.
She cries instead of cheers
reminded of the countdown
between us that has already
begun.



Peggy Eldridge-Love
You Beckon