Monday, February 17, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Ode to Bohemian Rhapsody
Cal and I picked up Ántonia from the middle school dance. Cal, fourteen, cued up 'Bohemian Rhapsody.'
Ántonia, eleven, face flushed from dancing the night away, said 'turn it up,' so I did. We drove and listened, no one talking. We pulled up to the house as the song closed.
'Anyway the wind blows,' Freddie Mercury sang.
My little girl said 'sweet.'
I smiled, we went inside.
They had no idea.
Magnifico. Sweet.
David Rocchio lives, works and writes in Stowe, Vermont. (c) 2013 David Rocchio
Ántonia, eleven, face flushed from dancing the night away, said 'turn it up,' so I did. We drove and listened, no one talking. We pulled up to the house as the song closed.
'Anyway the wind blows,' Freddie Mercury sang.
My little girl said 'sweet.'
I smiled, we went inside.
They had no idea.
Magnifico. Sweet.
David Rocchio lives, works and writes in Stowe, Vermont. (c) 2013 David Rocchio
Labels:
Bohemian Rhapsody,
irony,
kids,
Scaramouch,
songs
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