the saxophone player's daughter

used to smile and wink
at me when I took a solo
wore tight pants
when I would visit
her father’s house
had a smoky voice
on the telephone
was always in one
relationship or another
as was I, too many
missed opportunities
the time, never right

this was a bad day
to go driving
two days before Christmas
cars straddling the center line
left turns everywhere
on a foot of snow
melting in 35 degrees
I waterproofed my boots
smeared on lip balm
and drove for ten miles
but when I got
to the funeral parlor
the lot was empty
misinformed by one
of the other trumpets
I missed her
one last time

(12/96)