“In the split second of eternity, what do we know
          that isn’t before speaking?”   —James Grabill

Near the end of his life, Charlie Parker
had nowhere to go. He rode the subway

to the end, then rode it back again.
He stood in front of Birdland in the rain

with nothing left to say. Music plays
inside our home, in mellow tones, Black Cat

purrs a wheezy tune, cockatiels whistle and buzz;
my husband's hands clasp ebony and mahogany,

feather nylon strings. His fingers move
of their own accord, articulate a chord

to say what he can’t say, while outside,
a red-tailed hawk completes a fence post in the rain. 

Rights & Access

This poem was submitted for the "Poetry for the Mind's Joy" project and is reproduced here with permission from the author. All rights reserved. Poetry for the Mind's Joy is Poet Laureate Kay Ryan's project that includes a community college poetry contest administered by the Community College Humanities Association and a lively videoconference.
  • Cynthia Neely

    Wenatchee Valley College, Wenatchee, WA

    Faculty Advisor: Derek Sheffield, Humanities Division Chair