Let Down

I was invited to graduation,

to play the piano.

I couldn’t play.

It had been too long.

My hands wouldn’t work.

I just sat on the piano bench,

staring down at the keys.

Everyone waited.

When the silence went on so long

folks started to whisper,

Arley Wanderdale lowered his head and

Miss Freeland started to cry.

I don’t know,

I let them down.

I didn’t cry.

Too stubborn.

I got up and walked off the stage.

I thought maybe if my father ever went to Doc Rice

to do something about the spots on his skin,

Doc could check my hands too,

tell me what to do about them.

But my father isn’t going to Doc Rice,

and now
I think we’re both turning to dust.

May 1935