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Lessons Learned

Lessons Learned Abigail G. H. Manzella Some of my teachers have not survived. What does their parting betray? Were their lessons wise? Contrived? Or are unruly thoughts imagination’s need, destruction as the balance? Or is it merely loss? Piano lessons cancelled Th e stereo drones, the engine whirs, a woman too silent and still. While an eight- year- old, her reach far short of the octave, littlest fi nger to thumb, instead grasps her silken slippers, pink. Th ere will be no more practice, practice, practice. Th ere will be no more rhythm or sound. Just a door quietly closed. Th en, an e- mail’s brevity: “Th e poet died unexpectedly with her son.” Th at pristine sentence later violated. A walk in the woods, small hand in large, before she cut down herself and her creation. Sense and meaning departed. She taught me to hone the words of a page Focused, crisp, precise, alive. A novel like a poem An instant like a life. Abigail G. H. Manzella is a writer and scholar who lives in Columbia, Missouri. In addition to her poetry she writes prose on race and gender in twentieth- and twenty- fi rst- century American literature and http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies uni_neb

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2008 Frontiers Editorial Collective.
ISSN
1536-0334

Abstract

Abigail G. H. Manzella Some of my teachers have not survived. What does their parting betray? Were their lessons wise? Contrived? Or are unruly thoughts imagination’s need, destruction as the balance? Or is it merely loss? Piano lessons cancelled Th e stereo drones, the engine whirs, a woman too silent and still. While an eight- year- old, her reach far short of the octave, littlest fi nger to thumb, instead grasps her silken slippers, pink. Th ere will be no more practice, practice, practice. Th ere will be no more rhythm or sound. Just a door quietly closed. Th en, an e- mail’s brevity: “Th e poet died unexpectedly with her son.” Th at pristine sentence later violated. A walk in the woods, small hand in large, before she cut down herself and her creation. Sense and meaning departed. She taught me to hone the words of a page Focused, crisp, precise, alive. A novel like a poem An instant like a life. Abigail G. H. Manzella is a writer and scholar who lives in Columbia, Missouri. In addition to her poetry she writes prose on race and gender in twentieth- and twenty- fi rst- century American literature and

Journal

Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studiesuni_neb

Published: Jun 30, 2018

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