Planet Canon

After all this half a century,

Pachebel’s Canon popped up again,

And this time you were ready for it,

Not like when it slayed you at thirteen,

When you sat in a dusty classroom

Of a church school, watching a hand-spliced

Slide show made for a senior project

To lure adolescents to your school

And were wowed by phony sepia

And mawkish instrumentals. There’s still

That lullaby feeling to the piece,

Dreaminess that can lull like healing,

But no longer the invitation

To some kind of another planet

Of more orderly arranged music.

Now you’re simply delighted to know

That such planets can be imagined

And that you can still respond to them.