LatinosUSA

In my early youth I had recognized aptitude
In certain areas of accomplishment
On the path to being an artist
Then later, a musician
Then a photographer
Over time, bits and pieces
Of these high aspirations
Just crumbled off and
Fell to the floor like
So much residual
Sawdust

In elementary school I was given
Free time and space to create murals,
Which were fine enough to be posted
Right near the principal’s office

Then old school junior high teachers
Wanted to only teach followers,
Leaving no strokes to make
For originators, no air to breathe

One certain tree rendered in charcoal
Left me smeared with indecision
A branding far below amateur
The end of my promising art career

Elsewise I was pretty good taking snapshots
Set up a darkroom, got a photo enlarger
Good enough to impress other kids
All of this later replaced by digital

Never gathered the money or sponsorship
To put my photos in print and display them
Or offer them for sale, so most remain on
A thumb drive, out of sight, sawdust

There was more success in music
First trumpet, then piano, baritone horn,
Slide trombone, and tuba; in high school
I was the only trombone player, which

Made my attendance welcome, but didn’t
Raise my skill level any appreciable amount.
Matriculated to junior college where other
Players could play circles around me

Membership in the Musician’s Union got me a
Gig here and there, but I needed something
Steadier for a day job, and that would not be
Art, photos, or music. Paralegal worked out well.

Still dabble in art, photos, and music but the
Whole framework of the appeal for those
Endeavors as a life work has been reduced to
Clumps of mere sawdust on the floor