To the Tuba Girl

Even during your 48-measure rest,
You were noticed.

From the balcony I watched
you foot tap and page turn,
the fingers that counted
to ten again and again…

and your stern, untiring gaze
at the short-armed conductor,
with his tight black tuxedo
and fashionable red socks.

Then you fingered the note
twelve measures ahead,
to make sure of your soon
passing, orchestral debut.

And closing your eyes,
you inhaled two pints of air,
all that that your tenth-
grade body could contain.

And you released your low,
mellow cry to all who would hear,
to all who would welcome
your music inside,

but you ended so soon,
replaced by violas and cellos,
and the director smiled,
waving his arms vivaciously again.

Your part may be small,
but you've chosen right,
for no one again will miss
the girl with the oversized bell,

since even during your rest,
you were noticed.