Scales
Upstairs, the hammers of a piano
stomp through scales.
Unwilling fingers
prod at a well-known student piece.
A small tartan dog appears
wearing a coat of music,
a Scots theme.
Later I sit on the stoop
with a young girl.
We watch her Baby Grand
run up and down the street
while she swings her cotton socks.
I ask her if she likes Clementi?
A look in her eyes
warns me never to inquire again.
Little girl studies her ankles.
We listen to the Scottie huffing melodically,
as it takes a dead composer
for another circular walk.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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