The page turner

She seems like a minor inconvenience,

a child conceived for their lovers’ duet,

only fugue-daughter, her sole purpose

to flick a page at the nod of a head.

Did the same hands that fracture ordered keys

linger on her mother’s glossy belly?

Did she carry her with confident ease

as that miniature form began to swell?

Domestic rhythms, crescendos of will –

it seems like a natural progression.

Though it takes no extraordinary skill

to turn a page, a thankless profession,

it’s her I applaud as they take the floor:

no ordinary child could read that score.


(First published in Southword, Issue 31, 2017.)