National Poetry Month: Day Nine

Cello
                              with a nod to Trey Moore
                                   

He echoes the poem as he hauls it
out of the house in the dark of morning
wedges it into the backseat
angles through the doors
and into the school every day.

Repeating it all
in reverse
in the afternoon
when he is tired
has homework
and just wants to play.

He plays with a wild streak
and is being slowly tamed
by metronome, by scales.

It is the soundtrack now
of so much of his life.

Some will play the cello.