Piano Concert

Piano Concert

grand piano held a mouthful of maple tones

they cascaded with the release of pedal

keys and carnival percussion

trapped bears and butterflies

together in a solid box

What key becomes the story?

What fragrance of sound becomes a floor, a stage?

What fingers move years?

How is the body of sorrow played?

What timbre is joy?

What strings become the staff?

What lines open the wind into the throat?

What bench holds one sitting there,

playing for approval, until the breaking

voice has been outgrown by some sound

stretching wider than belly,

breaking into an open ended question within a chest,

until only the music, it softens and crystalizes at once,

barricading the door of the performance

for solitude with the sound.  

shortlink: dogb.us/concert



More Remarkable Finds
In Quiet

In Quiet

I like it when quiet paints a portrait, moon-like countenance. In the background, day plays away at everything the world needs for movement.
There’s No Place

There’s No Place

Four walls of high red brick: this is a house. Hides stretched taut over posts: this is a house. Earth and straw plied between timbers: this is a house.
Permanent Guest

Permanent Guest

After losing everything you love, how much more would you give up to remain in the happiest place on earth?


Track your submissions at Duotrope