Emily Reid Green – Two Poems

Emily Reid Green, M.Ed. is an English teacher at Maumee Valley Country Day School and also serves as a teacher consultant with the National Writing Project. Her creative non-fiction, flash fiction and poetry have appeared in publications including: Skipping Stones, Common Threads, The Font, The Linnet’s Wings, Khroma Magazine, and Skive Magazine. She lives with her family in Toledo, Ohio.

“Consider the Piano”

The piano is show and
tell, that time when
chocolate fingers painted
the keys, when the party grew
too loud to see me, something
special, so I played quiet, sang
silent to steal the boy across
the stage. The piano is quilt and
taking up space and
empty check marks, grading my days
as almost, a smiley face version of
not quite, fights only changed
the expression for a moment, it
wasn’t meant to last and yet–
The piano is souvenir, having saved it
all these years, noted and
resting on the line, elbows on the
table, hands poised for playing,
dinner plates aside, waiting for me
the piano is arm outstretched.
I will not let you go. The father
never stopped listening, head
tilted, as if dreaming
her melody awake.

“Of a Sunday”

A sweaty and shivering afternoon
of a Sunday. The musicians
are waiting. Fingers folding
programs in stagefright origami.

It is the Little Theater. In a corner
the mother is playing the teacher
and the musician, a dying star,
not ready to shine for so many.

The teacher, with fingers long and strong,
is smiling. She is frazzled hair,
a poem and a warning,
who is humming a concerto in her head.

And the entire churchified audience
is listening for the final movement:
crescendo crescendo crescendo
Allegro con vivo vivace.

It is the silence. On the stage
the instruments are waiting.
A sweaty and shivering afternoon
of a Sunday. The musicians.



This entry was posted in News, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.