I WOULDN’T SAY REGRET

Staring absently, the waitress

Demurred to evoke words

In reply to what he thought jocose

Signifying his accidental dissonance in most anything not

Music

At the piano

A good part of the day

Notes singing out a pentatonic sequence

Which were the scales’ iteration of their name

In every key

“It’s fun!” he exclaimed

While I sat on the couch that afternoon visit

Not even a song to me or most anybody

It’s why he’s so good

I mean good

Why his accidental dissonance, maybe, in most anything not

Music

 

He likes to check out music stores

Why wouldn’t he?

“Listen to this lick; it modulates,” he exclaimed,

After he caught my attention

Playing the baby-grand piano upon asking my permission

In the store I worked at back then

The day we met, that time

When two roads diverged before me

And I took a different road

Than the one we were both traveling by back then

 

The crowd wasn’t really listening

At the Grand Hotel’s Cupola Bar on Mackinac Island

Chit-chat, chit, chatter, chitter-chatter

Where we renewed our old friendship

It looked to me like the thrill is gone

Nor, I suppose, on the cruise ships how he makes his living now

 

Everybody’s got to make a buck

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