Learning How to Sing

(This is a graphical poem but I couldn’t figure out how to make it work with text, the actual poem is in the photo.)

Ears truly open / you hear the Earth’s voice.
A baritone / geologic depth and range.
Birch leaves unfurl in the key of G
while samaras of red maples drop

in A minor / waving farewell to
lower branches / April breezes run
scales ending at high C / which raise
the hairs on my forearm.

Ears closed / missed notes and options
manifold “shoulds” / vacations not taken / condos
unpurchased / the child that could have been.
Life’s tune wafts away / ten minutes late / dropped

call / tire flat as a road-killed skunk
turn right instead of left / shrills like A or C sharp.
Singing lessons mean open ears / breath
shakes joy oi oi oi oi oi oi loose

from vocal chords / then zing, zing, zing,
zing, zo, zo, zo, / my notes in blissful
synchrony with teacher’s ivory keys.
For twenty minutes I live in a waved

universe of perfect vibration / no me, no
you / just notes clasped close.

Gary D. Grossman
Last Stanza Poetry Review 11, January 2023