Oops.

I wrote my poem to the NaPo prompt and forgot to A-to-Z it.  Oh well.  I guess there’s an owl in the poem, once, but since my friend Antonia posted about owls today, I’ll just let O stand for my oops.

 

 

How Home Sounded Then

 

Chopin under the piano, lively and minor on a recital grand

Mom’s wedding ring tapping on the ivory keys

working the same runs or bars ten times

pounding keys flat in flattened smush chords, frustration, a reset

strings and winds on the radio in some room of the house

little sister making up songs—tunes and lyrics alike

pages turning pages turning pages turning

no tv or computer noise till teenage years

crickets under brightened moon

an unlocked door, a galloping cat, up and down the hall

the dove I thought for a time was an owl (coo? who?)

veggies chopped with a dulling knife, on wood or orange Tupperware

the kshhh kshhh kshhh of the heavy pressure cooker on the stove

cereal hitting bowl, splashed with milk, spoon clink

the hum and spin of the avocado green washing machine

or the gear shift hot water release of the squeaky-wheeled dishwasher

the high airplane distant roar

the wind in tops of trees, a rustle-roar

a extended family drawl that sounds like Kentucky

y’all, school as two syllables, huhhhhhney

momist phrases and my mishearing ways

to a tee (T?)

like a fiend (feen?)

that’s asinine (assonying?)

talk rhythms of NPR before they got too liberal

men booming in laughter and expertise

women cackling, murmuring, mom-looking, teacher-face-ing,

the audio of women filling the gaps and holding up the world

 

              

 

 

This post is a blend of the A to Z Blog Challenge and NaPoWriMo.  To read other A to Z bloggers, click here. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that “incorporates ‘the sound of home.'”