The Flute Player

    by Mariejoy A. San Buenaventura

A wooden flute sang

in the soft rain,

an old, iridescent tune,

a young, pale player,

his music not of the hardy red bricks,

acorns in helmets, scuttling-tailed squirrels,

or rose and golden tops of maple trees

of this weather-whimsical Northern town,

but of Asian peasants in straw hats

leading water buffaloes sluggish

in the copious sun

along paddies green as jewels.

I listened with head bowed,

watching the drizzle

on my brown hands,

rejoicing, and grieving,

that a boy so blond, so fair,

played to me of home.

© 2007 Mariejoy A. San Buenaventura

* Previously published in the Anthology of New England Writers 2007.

Mariejoy A. San Buenaventura teaches English and creative writing at Mahidol University in Thailand just outside Bangkok. Her writing consists mostly of poetry because she loves the way it allows her to contain an experience in a vial of words.  She has been previously published in the Anthology of New England Writers 2007.