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How we met; one facet of Clara Rockmore
netskyIam

I met Clara Rockmore by playing intuition
 1
much like she phrased her theremin:
 2
 
 
vibrations wedded in the air.
 3
 
 
High priestess of her instrument,
 4
"It's not for schpooky music",
 5
she brooked no contact with a world
 6
old age and distrust shut her from..
 7
 
 
When I learned that Clara
 8
was yet alive, though waning,
 9
 
 
a dozen roses teleported
 10
to her New York City home
 11
"from an admirer in Miami."
 12
 
 
Her interest piqued, she tried to call
 13
she could not phone; had not my name.
 14
 
 
The florist called instead and said
 15
"she insists to speak to you."
 16
 
 
I looked up Clara, always listed;
 17
telephoned her then, and heard
 18
her voice in  music, with myself;
 19
myself as her muse.
 20
 
 
"Oh! You're the one who sent the roses?
 21
They're so lovely! Lasting well.
 22
 
 
How did you know red is my color?
 23
Red roses are my favorite flowers."
 24
 
 
I spoke in truth, confessed
 25
"I guessed".
 26
 
 
(without pause)
 27
 
 
"When Professor Theremin courted me
 28
he sent red roses every week.
 29
That was
 30
 
 
many years ago.
 31
Now you send me roses, so
 32
I must ask,--I need to know
 33
What do you want from me?"
 34
 
 
(pause)
 35
 
 
"Nothing, Mrs. Rockmore;
 36
nothing but to say
 37
your music makes my mornings
 38
last the entire day.
 39
 
 
I listen to your album
 40
put down years ago.
 41
I think you are immortal
 42
 
 
but none of us are so—
 43
 
 
—so blessed to have your soul
 44
and the taste you evidence.
 45
So I sent some roses as
 46
reminders of the lives you touch."
 47
 
 
(epilogue)
 48
 
 
And nearly every-after month
 49
I'd send a fresh red dozen
 50
 
 
but Clara couldn't love
 51
 
 
forever—lost
 52
in May of 1998.
 53

10 May 06

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