Cherry Wood

Going through the scales

That I remember so well

The callouses on my fingertips

There since childhood

You always remember your first violin

The squeaky strings

And stretched horse hair

My mother pushing me to practice

Chipping nails and Chaffing palms

Cherry wood slipping under my chin

Orchestra performances

Are remembered with cheering applause

My childhood full of music

Full of family

Conducters in black

My skin still calloused

My bow still strong

Wrinkled hands flying across notes

Wearing black and sitting tall

Interviews from childhood

Playing in my head

My leather case now batterd beyond repair