Three Poems by Elana Wolff
RefinementOnce there was a brakeman who was so musicalhe became a conductor. One day, transportedby the majesty of the music, he dropped his batonmid-movement.The stick signalled from the stage,Shouldn’t you pick me up?I don’t really need youafter all, the conductor quipped, dismissing the tool,and pleased himself with waving his hands orchestrallyin the air, the tails of his jacket flapping at…