Missing Mr. Herrmann

[Writing about an absent friend was this week's Totally Optional Prompt. See what others came up with here. ]




Missing Mr. Herrmann

You are in my consonants,
the ones at the beginnings and ends
of words making a difference
between a good chorus or great.

You are in the vowels I sing,
clear with no dipthongs,
making sure that the audience
can understand the lyrics.

You are in my eyes that watch
the conductor's baton,
ever alert to unexpected changes
in tempo.

You are in my fingers
as I turn pages as quietly
and unobtrusively as possible
just as you taught us.

You are in my confidence,
encouraged by your trust in me,
even though you have been
gone for twenty years.

You are on my mind in December
when I remember how we used
to sing carols at your house
because it was a way for us to say,
"Thank you."