off key

art is not
my thing, nor is
playing music.
not a key board
or a drum stick,
or string,
feels right
in my hand.
I look at a block
of stone
and see
a block of stone,
the white canvas
is just that.
a snow storm
with no one in it.
if I sing the dogs
howl,
the neighbors bang
shoes against the wall.
I have to find other
ways to say what I want,
or spare the world,
and say
nothing at all.