Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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Seta. A Bach flute concerto plays on the air. My first love was Seta, a flautist in high school. Our first date was meeting and playing music at her home. I knew her parents well; her mother, An Armenian, soft-spoken woman; Her father, a very short Armenian artist At the Rhode Island School of Design. I remember when he showed me His plastered juxtaposition of egg cartons; Beautifully conjoined to create an optical illusion. Seta and I met at a 50th Reunion for Newton High School. She had aged, but was soft and conversant. Dementia hit and her son took her off to California. I was never able to converse with her again. The magic of early youth, lost at the end In silence and an unfulfillment of words. Frank Maurer 14 February 2025 0050 Hours.