The Great Pretender
Poetry
Marching with the junior-high band,
I pretended to play clarinet
while digits bounced ineptly,
dull, above the keys.
If I added voice to musicians in their choir,
my instrument would whine complaints.
Annexed by the troupe,
I fingered quick approximations of each note.
Reed depressing tongue, denied vibration,
performed its function to precision,
complementing tunes with quiet
unnoticed on crowded streets.
In the parade, I focused on my feet &
couldn’t keep a rhythm even then.
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