I tried, I really tried

To learn to play the piano.

My daughter mastered it.

Earned recognition from the local guild.

She got half her genes from me

Right?

So I signed up for lessons

From her teacher.

Once a week I sat in the teacher’s house

Completed my technique lessons

Developed an understanding of

How tor read notes, how they work together.

At home I practiced scales

Endlessly telling my fingers to go up and down

And back again, over and over

Unable to memorize

That should have been a hint.

It was, but I chose to ignore it

Instead convinced that I could

Learn to play

A recital was planned in which I would play a piece

I chose a John Denver song

One I loved and knew by heart.

The problem was…I couldn’t memorize it.

My fingers refused to find the right keys.

They drifted all over instead of staying centered.

Up and down, my eyes sought out the lines in the book

Then down to the piano

I quit lessons after the recital

I accepted that my fingers were too short

My memory faulty

And I was wasting my money.

Music Lessons were not for me.