This Note

Poem from learning the flute
Flute blown
The note of B
Fully resonant
Crisp, distinct
Not sharp or flat
Just B
When my quavers waver
And my C’s have
I come back
To B
And let it be
When E’s
Refuse to split
The lower wheezes
The higher slips into D
I leave my E’s
And come back to B
It may be trite to say
But triteness has some truth
It is easier to be
Than play another’s note
For my note
Is neither sharp nor flat
The other truth is true
It takes some time
To learn your note
To be yourself
Fully resonant

Neither sharp or flat

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