Eve Müller

Descant

A young man delivers my Craigslist sofa. He’s black-eyed and handsome, not at all dressed for furniture moving. Someone I would have courted had I been closer to life’s beginnings. Soon I am down on hands and knees in my red dress, attaching the legs to the upended couch, and he is perched on a wooden box, strumming my battered guitar. I can tell he doesn’t want to go, and that’s fine. I enjoy the sounds of the guitar as sweat beads on my brow. Even more, I like that he keeps his hands and shirt clean while I squat here in the back of the house. Hem hiked high. Screws sticking out from between my teeth. 

Before he leaves, he slips an engraved card into my hand: Landscaper, guitar teacher, renaissance man. Call me, he says. I’ll teach your daughters how to serenade their sweethearts.

beneath the blue jay’s harsh cry
the almost inaudible
whisper song

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About the Author

Eve Müller has recently published in About Place, Camas, Marrow Magazine, Sequestrum, and Timberline Review among others. She has two books out: Guide to the Ruins and Birds and Saints. She was a winner in the Cirque poetry contest, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

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