Tune for an Old Piano
for D. D. Katzeva

the companion of the black one
the shiny white one

black one outside in the sun,
in the rain, long ago lost its finish
its sheen

no longer used to show off
or show off at or show off with

white one, with who sat at it,
sat to play, who were in the limelight

I noticed these companions,
this counterpoint, knew then that
my story, my poem was incomplete

hadn't the inspiration necessary
to tackle contrast, the story's other part

hadn't the imaginative strength
or was it interest sufficient
to climb that other hill,
another hill of creativity

white piano though, I knew
recently performed on
centre of concerts
ending in applause

black one with lock
for who knows/for God knows what
grown quiet, gone quiet
mouth shut, jaws locked

what if allowed, might it say

jealous as hell I know, of shiny piano,
piano tuner visits to service it
come along to steal the show

the black piano once evoked applause

only applause now, rain falling on it
sun drying it, cracking and peeling it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
3:44 a.m. 14.03.09