Singing Butler - Ekphrastic Poem by Joey Ng
It was on a Saturday afternoon
When Meredith, the new maid, came over
And took the clicker from my hand, leaving
Lamont and Fred squabbling in the junkyard.
“Get up Ted, Lady McCullough wants to
Drive out to the coast. Bring an umbrella.”
With a sigh I rose up out of my worn
Leather recliner, bothering to gaze
Out the porch window. What on earth was she
Thinking, going out on a drive today?
I followed Meredith down the set of
Winding white spiral staircases past the
Study and the den to the Main foyer.
I liked the old gal better; she wasn’t
So serious, and she laughed at my jokes.
A shame she was bagged by the cruiser on
The corner that one Friday evening.
In a few short moments we pulled up on
The New England coast, briny air chopping
At our faces, tousling the lady’s hair.
She got out of the car and grabbed the hand
Of Master McCullough, pulling him in tow.
Meredith handed me an umbrella
And I trudged along, the wet slushy sand
Seeping into the
welt of my black bluchers.
“Sing for us Wilson,”
the Lady said, and
I obliged, singing
a German valse with
the deep notes
calming my chattering teeth.
The Lady and the Master traced their soles
In ribbons on the sand, lulls and accents
Traversing through each beat; By now we are
Soaked, so I close my umbrella and sing
‘Til brisk waves lap away their fine silk trace.
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