If I could whistle up a charm
for us I’d make my mouth
into a small perfect oh
and then fingers crossed
toes firmly planted
eyes closed (for conjuring)
put my whole soul and heart
behind one long breath blown
evenly through that oh
and then you and I
would stand hushed
as the pretty little
goodnesses sprinkled down
all over us like pink sugar
on two happy cupcakes.
In vain I try the length of my rambles
to learn a skill I failed to grasp in
childhood or ever beyond a thing
Others seem to have come by
without effort as easily as I learned
to tie my shoes skip a rope
a simple thing it seems and my
son laughs dumbfounded as I
fail at this simple thing I want to do.
Ohing and oohing, blowing and
whooshing pursing pouting pushing
and barely a sound issues forth.
But I have a goal and I continue
gamely on. Before the year is out
I will whistle.