I
The air in the house
is still;
a single gilded note
Pierces the calm.
II
Confident hands
Trail up a scale,
Fumbling back down.
III
Nursery songs
Play tenderly
through the house;
Tickling ears
with their sweet melodies.
IV
A delicate set,
Eighty eight keys to be played;
but ten fingers
with which to play them.
V
Simple melodies transform
to broken harmonies;
the first, the fourth,
the dominant to the tonic;
a decisive cadence.
VI
The music stops;
Life plays.
Days pass,
Weeks, months,
Years.
VII
Dust's sheath
quickly coats the keys,
Blocking out
the rest of the world.
VIII
The keys, the strings,
the pedals, the hammers,
Call out in unison,
Begging to be touched,
Felt,
Played.
IX
The air in the house
is still;
a single gilded note
Pierces the calm.
X
Confident hands
Trail up a scale,
Fumbling back down.
XI
Notes, progressions,
Tender tunes,
Flow with ease;
Never again
to be forgotten.
XII
A delicate set,
Eighty eight keys to be played;
All eighty eight become one,
as ten fingers, too,
Become one;
All barriers, transgressed.
XIII
Improvisational emotions
Escape the frail lips
of the
Piano.
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