Light creeps in the window,
           waning and  waxing,
a repeated exercise at noon.  

There's an out of tune piano in the corner,
             sun soaked wood, the stain fading,
in a reflection of the faded music from lack of use,
it has been re-purposed, pushed to the side
                      waiting for life.

It loves the sun.
    In love with the same
which makes it rot, slowly and steadily.
  A love that wanes and waxes at noon.

A repeated exercise in life.