I could've probably started sooner Had a fiddle at the age of four A Kraft dinner box taped to a ruler The strings elastic bands of course You carved one out of wood and splinters Christmas, 1995 For little hands and smaller fingers Even tinier than mine Said the way it works as I get bigger Sizes that I fit will grow Sixteenth, eighth, quarter, half in fractions Coming closer to a whole Far too large for yet another You said there's something I should see Told me it had been your mother's That's great grandmother to me Said she bought it in the twenties The Sears & Roebuck Catalogue You later tried to fix the finish Apparently you did it wrong Because I took it to a luthier After you had passed away He tried to tell me it was ruined But I still play it every day The last concert you attended Was when you started getting sick I played a song I don't remember I think that after that I quit But in the crowd at the recital My mother told me what you said Nothing perfect, nothing final, just "That's the best it's sounded yet" Same face, a second skin The world's smallest violin