I sigh
I’m passing her again
that black mistress
that sits in the corner gathering dust
I miss her,
I guess,
but I remember
why I left
and why
she now gathers dust

I sigh
running my fingers over her obsidian surface
old girl, I remember
the music,
the fun,
the tears,
the fret,
oh I remember

I remember
and
I sigh

it’s been what?
2-3 years now?
it was hard
but it was the piano I broke up with
it was playing her,
learning to play her,
learning all her special places,
learning how to make her sing
like she’ll only let a few make
her

I lift the key guard
play a single note
I retract the hand,
the key is hot iron,
then I hit it again,
not so hot this time,
then I play, play a
song that I remember,
the only song I
remember

I did not do it long
just enough to remind
me how bad I was

but putting the key guard down
and leaving the old girl to her
dust I realized something:

I had returned to the piano,
and once again I had made
her sing in that wonderful
way