saxophone

why couldn’t I have put my legs together

and just played it like they wanted me to?

saxophone, with its brassy presence and the reed

that nestled against my bottom lip, so strange, so natural

but it was not meant to be. Rebellion took the winning spot

that year, but music was the long distance runner that stole the ribbon-

taunting me, haunting me all my life. Why

couldn’t I

have learned then

to swallow my pride and delay my feminist mind

so that I could someday play? It’s okay

I will tap my fingers on any surface today and I will sing

anyway.

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About theminstrelscitadel

In search of courageous souls who aren't afraid to dig a little deeper and have a conversation about all manner of things. Rant, rave, debate, discuss... let's do it!
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