Last night I watched a show on Bill Holm, a Minnesota poet. I cried at the thought of his being dead, and cried at missing my deceased husband Ken as well. Ken and I loved Bill Holm and his work: poetry, essays, piano playing. We first saw him in nearby Amery, Wisconsin. After his performance I approached him and asked to buy the book that contained a poem he had read called Advice. I intended to read it at my wedding. He gave me this copy. A year later we went to see Bill and he marched through the crowd to us and asked if I had read his poem, if we got married, and if so how was marriage treating us.
Advice
Someone dancing inside us
Learned only a few steps:
The “Do-Your-Work” in 4/4 time,
The “What-Do-You-Expect” waltz.
He hasn’t noticed yet the woman
Standing away from the lamp,
The one with black eyes
Who knows the rhumba,
And strange steps in jumpy rhythms
From the mountains in Bulgaria.
If they dance together,
Something unexpected will happen.
If they don’t, the next world
Will be a lot like this one.
Bill Holm
