Holly Day’s most recent poem to appear here was The Poets (February 2013).
Where It Comes From
By Holly Day
I watch my cat try to play my guitar
and it’s easy to see the cognitive leap
australopithecines made in crafting harps
out of sinew-strung turtle shells
tuned to chance
I watch my daughter crawling along the floor
to bat at the door stop spring, again and again
her eyes alight with joy at the sudden noise
her first musical composition
outside, birds sing the same song, again and again
four notes placed perfect against one another
frogs and crickets expand in harmony
the things I hear on the radio are just a poor imitation
of all the songs that are already there.
