Day 117
This is what I do best.
Can one ever know
their own voice?
Does it sound to you
the way it sounds to others sitting next to you
in the soprano section?
It doesn't quite squeak, but instead
like an overly used oboe reed,
like a slight crack in the recorder
a piccolo whose player has lost control of her lips,
your voice tightens and the ahhh becomes, ehhh.
Can I ever know?
I need to be grateful tonight. I am grateful for
1) love
2) the chance to watch children learn
3) my collection of children's books
4) Emma
5) that my parents exposed me to such an array of music.
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