I had to sing your song for the audition
“how sweet the sound” my voice began to shake
Isn’t that called vibrato?
Yes, I tell myself and recite the lyrics
Music soothing to my ears
with a taste sweet on my tongue
I think of later when I’ll be alone
safe from curious onlookers
makeup can run down my face
no longer able to hold back the sorrow I work so hard to conceal
I find my way to the end
and sing with only a hint of quiver in my voice “now I see”
Several years after the death of her sweetheart,
Eula woke up.
Woke up, not like after sleeping for eight hours,
but really woke up.
1991 and she had been asleep since 1967,
not technically asleep but not really awake until now.
Leaving her house only on special occasions – graduation, weddings, and holiday’s.
The fog had lifted
with it her spirits.
Surviving on toast and black coffee from her electric percolator.
And then – one day
They wanted her to wake up for so long and wakeup she did.
Out came the fancy dresses and shoes.
Unearthed were the ‘good’ hose and girdles.
Unpacked were the hairpieces and jewelry.
The drive took over an hour.
She was always driven.
Got married at 15
no need to drive for herself.
Saxophone echoed in her ears
Eula swayed in her seat – waiting.
She was with her girls
the content looks on their faces
matched their body language.
She let out a sigh.
She was awake.
All so she could meet Michael Bolton.