By robert philips
She was a girl
No one ever chose
For teams or clubs,
Dances or dates,
So she chose the instrument
No one else wanted:
The tuba. Big as herself,
Heavy as her heart,
Its golden tubes
And coils encircled her
Like a lover’s embrace.
Its body pressed on hers.
Into its mouthpiece she blew
Life, its deep-throated
Oompahs, oompahs sounding,
Almost, like making cries.
From Good Poems. Selections by garrison keillor