Spooner's accordion sat there through it
all. He brought it the day after
Thanksgiving, and now Valentine's Day has
past, and the world has changed; all but
Spooner lives life in the same manner he
plays music-simple, yet precise. His life
is illogical in a logical sort of way, from
a perspective somewhat askew. He is a
caring person, who shares his observations
in a way that is chimerical.
Spooner didn't play his accordion, he sat
it in the hall at the juncture between
garage and breakfast nook, and as with all
Spooner plays it was in exactly the right
It was there when the world began to spin
out of control. When the dark days of
winter closed in and silenced this house.
And is now the only greeting I get when I
It has seemed like an endless time.
Confusion adding to confusion. Missteps
stumbling over misconceptions. All the
wrong answers and all the wrong reasons.
My mind said she doesn't know what she has,
and my heart pledged to give her what she
wanted if she just knew how to ask for it.
But she wanted only to leave.
And I stumbled on. Watching her things
disappear one at a time was like watching
the blood leak from your body. You know
eventually this will kill you.
Spooner's accordion watched the parade of
movers carry away my sense of purpose. It
sat through the tears we shared, the
desperate hugs, and the realization of the
And it still sits there as if waiting for
the next arrangement.