Sport 34: Winter 2006
2
2.
as if her notes had formed in the womb like milk
teeth otherwise where did they come from? There were
CDs all about, so many Saturns, but once she heard
a real girl play the actual sound of a possum trapped
in a church hall—wood, copper, hair, rosin—and she wanted
in. Today they played Suzuki Book Four
at the mall—girls an aloha dress, boys ditto shirt—
while tourists shopped and the canal drew
its whole long arm down to Waikiki. Sometimes like the tide
she is sick of it. She laughed when Brian Potiki asked,
Do you learn Kooki Method? In the end it is
something to get through, the restless afternoon
of a childhood illness or ecstasy. The odd pock-mark,
a half-note that will never leave her.