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Windpiper...

by Cary Kelly
As I sheepishly peeked
from beneath the gauzy
curtains that draped
my mother's loins,
I was pushed...

into a sterile spotlight
that demanded the first
painful note of my existence.

The lungs,
like caged musicians,
involuntarily blew
through a windpipe
they had never played

and the expulsion
was so primitive and unpracticed
I cried. Yet still, I was
blanketed with applause.

Eventually,
pediatric cacophony
matured into melodic lullaby
and now 34 years deep
into this lifesong,
the lungs are in tune
with the drumming of a heart
and all the other organs
in my anatomical orchestra,

but the ovations are gone
and the end of this ballad
will only see the tears
of others.

Selection 2 of

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Copyright © 2004 by Cary Kelly. All rights reserved.