If Memories Were All I Sang

Should've told you how beautifully you wore that blue cotton print.
Should've told you while there was an elegance in your step.
Should've made an impression of your light in mezzotint.
Would've told you, but I spoke the language of a schlep.

You were so free then, that I was left to marvel in awe,
When you laughed the mirth poured out your nostrils,
Electrified the air in resistance to Ohm's Law.
Memories of then have coalesced today to fossils.

I am so proud, Suzanne, to learn of your academic success;
To know you found a path through the coppiced maze of life,
That dropped you on a landing pad suitable to your noblesse ---
Teacher to the children, a career's sharp-edged pruning knife.




Poetry by Brian Oarr
Read 477 times
Written on 2011-11-18 at 06:40

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