“More Music” by Carl Dennis
This one thinks he’s lucky when his car
Flips over in the gully and he climbs out
With no bones broken, dusts himself off
And walks away, eager to forget the episode.
And this one when her fever breaks
And she opens her eyes to breeze-blown,
Sky-blue curtains in a sunlit house
With much of her life still before her
And nothing she’s done too far behind her
To be called back, or remedied, or atoned.
Now she’ll be glad to offer her favorite evening hours
To Uncle Victor and listen as he tells again
How the road washed out in the rain
And he never made it to Green Haven in time
To hear the Silver Stars and the Five Aces.
And she’ll be glad to agree that the good bands
Lift the tunes he likes best above them to another life,
And agree that it isn’t practice alone
That makes them sound that way
But luck, or something better yet.
And if Victor thinks he’s a lucky man for the talk
And for his room in his nephew’s house
Up beneath the rafters, and the sweet sound of the rain
Tapping on the tar paper or ringing in the coffee can,
Should we try to deny it? Why make a list
Of all we think he’s deserved and missed
As if we knew someone to present it to
Or what to say when we told we’re dreaming
Of an end unpromised and impossible,
Unmindful of the middle, where we live now?