Baby grand piano in the den - spring
It rules the whole house, actually. A more powerful force than the clock, flaunting its timelessness - Look you can see history
in its finish,
and the glistening future.
It does not need its music the way we need our language, our self-approvals ... Even in silence its pride is permanent.
The keyboard is
a banner of bones
Ivory tower of strength.
It poses, top grandly propped like a protective wing - While birds outside the window sing about sunlight
to their bodies,
conducted by trees.
In fragile dawn when no one is about, the piano is a giant ebony shell ... Secrets of the house sifting through strings
Hear the ocean
Hear a child's breath
Hear the world.