the whistle

she tried you show me
how to whistle.
not the lips
together, bird like
pucker
of a whistle, but the kind
where you place two fingers
of one hand
into your half
gaped mouth kind of whistle.
I failed.
she could do it. loudly.
a high pitched
screech of a whistle.
over and over again.
dogs came running.
but I had nothing.
nothing but my lips pursed
in a small circle, a
bing Crosby
kind of whistle.
it wasn't meant to be,
me and her.
the whistle.