May Day
A Jackpine Sonnet

his hands would not
stay still
fingers intertwined
then fanned open

he tapped the tabletop
a frantic piano
pounding S-O-S

… ___ …

the black dog
above the ivory keys
gnawed
on memory’s bones

his fingers picked
at ancient scabs
until they bled red

so many things unsaid
so many tales untold

Comment:

A long time ago my grandfather taught me the basics of morse code. He told me he could recognize the ‘tapped signature’ of each of the operators with whom he worked. I sat at the table with him and he tapped away dit dit dit dot dot dot dit dit dit – it was all so long ago and I have forgotten so much of it now.

After my father suffered his second stroke, he sat at the table and endlessly tapped dit dit dit dot dot dot dit dit dit – SOS, May Day, May Day, Save Our Souls.

Older than either of them, I too sit at the table and endlessly tap with my fingers. For now, I play the piano, one handed, two handed, well-remembered scales with the middle fingers automatically overlapping the thumbs.

I guess I am waiting for the rhythms to change, for the black dog to kick in, for my own fingers to play, not the piano, but morse code. I wonder – will anyone answer when I call out? Will anybody come?