nostalgia

I miss the taste
of metal
on my teeth,

the familiar
tang
of failure –

the sour sound
of a wrong
note,

the slow sap
of practice,
improving,

upon lips
ready
for the end

but not
prepared
to quit;

before you
know it –
it’s gone,

the days when
life felt
a song

so sweet,
when I had
a note

to inhale
in place of
my grief;

when I had
a sheet
to guide,

when I could
make the air
so wild

with just a
breath –

​

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