Overtones
Five years since you last drew
breath and you haven’t left me
yet. The timbre
of your voice lingers
in my ear, your soft brown eyes
smile across the breakfast table.
And, yes, I still slip into present
tenses at odd moments
when I least expect it.
On a busy morning
a quick trip to the grocery store
is suddenly transformed
when the car radio plays
Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto,
and decades slip away:
to the first time I heard it
in an Atlanta music store
and had to bring it home
to share with you.
It became part of our language,
a way of making love.
I had the Adagio played
at your memorial service,
tears streaming down my face
with the knowledge that you
would never hear it again.
And yet, you’re here beside me
in a car you’ve never seen
while the solo clarinet
sings that plaintive melody
and you touch me
across the void.
© Joyce Meyers
Joyce Meyers’ poems have appeared in Atlanta Review, The Comstock Review, Iodine Poetry Journal, Slant, Evening Street Review, and Glimpse. She won First Prize in the Atlanta Review 2014 International Poetry Competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her collections include Twisted Threads (Kelsay Books, 2024), The Way Back ( Kelsay Books, 2017), and two chapbooks, Shapes of Love (Finishing Line Press, 2010), and Wild Mushrooms (Plan B Press, 2007).
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