Memory
by Cynthia S.
Radio on in the kitchen,
memory spills over me;
oil anointing the blessed.
I’m seven again.
saddle shoes, plaid dress,
gray coat, red ribbons
in my braided hair.
First row balcony seat,
teacher sits beside me
squirming in my seat waiting
for the symphony.
Lone Ranger rides again.
Teacher catches me, I almost
fall over the rail.
First encounter with ecstasy
love affair with brass,
winds, strings, percussion.
New world discovered.
I turn the volume up
feel old excitement, dizzy
with gratitude, joy.
Tags: