One of the things I can truly say
brings me earned regret is my
lack of musical ability
A great-aunt who taught piano
offered me free lessons
I passed, parents didn’t push
An old soul, junior high me
discovered
Big Band music
bought Glenn Miller records
considered
trombone lessons
but the horn was taller than I
Living on my own at nineteen
I bought a nice guitar
but the lessons weren’t in tune
with my budget
A decade later I spent two moths
taking voice lessons
at a crisp $7.50 a weekly session
the teacher offered me a basket
so I could maybe carry a tune
I have distant cousins
who each play the cello, have
toured, recorded with
world-renowned stars
I watch their videos and wonder
A few years back my eldest son
gifted me a cheap guitar
it sits on a stand behind me
gathering dust
and more ‘what ifs’
then I spent $9.99 for a recorded
online class
I have yet to activate
For now, if the topic of
my musical prowess comes up
I whistfully go to my fallback
“Played the piano once.
I lost, five-to-three”
Beat me daddy, eight to the bar
and where did I put
that password?
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2022
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Awww, both a bit sad but humorous. As regrets can go… If it’s any consolation, I took the piano lessons for one year. Can’t remember a lick of a tune. Piano gets dusted once a month. Love the way this poem hints at elements, like the online course, and then circles back around to the password metaphor. Smart stuff.
Thank you, Denise. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this one at first, but it is growing on me a bit. Glad to hear it resonated with you!