Poetry Porch: Poetry


A String Quartet Concert
by Robert K. Johnson

I see the musicians’ eyes
connect; then hear their hands
start playing a melody
drowned out by shouted jokes
yesand loud laughteryes

because, done with writing about
quite different family days,
I’m free now to relive
a Thanksgiving Day
when I was ten and floated

on the boisterous banter
tossed back and forth by my parents,
brother, and sister during a meal
that never threatened to erupt
in bursts of angry words.

Copyright © 2002 by Robert K. Johnson