THE WINDY NIGHT

music lessons are nasty
if you have to share them
with another student
after the professor soaks his reed
loosens his fingers and arpeggios
nimble through the passages as always
the other sits there and smiles
where have I been all week
with my instrument
to prepare
the keys feel stiff under my touch
the reed heavy
it will not speak
the professor’s eyebrows are startled
while the other smirks
then climbs a perfect scale
while at the window
wooden fingers
scratching panes
warn of the coming gale