Mozart’s Birthday
January 27, 2007

traffic bubbled and shifted,
the dark clouds scudding quickly,
a north wind hastening
the default on the outdoor
thermometer, and grandkids were free today.

setting up for inside games
seemed natural, cards splattered on yellow
linoleum, dad’s old hat askew,
the ace of spades in an arc to fall
on the brim.

hot chocolate bubbled too,
now on the old gas stove,
memories of Guy Lombardo
playing on the stereo.

no one had remembered but me,
so I took out the old recording my
father used to play, and asked
the kids if they knew a man
named Wolfgang.

oh, yes, they agreed,
and quite a funny fellow too,
that movie Amadeus so sad,
but we watched it five times.

and so the afternoon slowed a bit,
no more noise or jumping
on the sofa, just the click of surface
hiss on the player, a touch
of Mozart in the air.