The Piano
It's cold out this morning
too cold for the dew to settle,
and the sun has barely showed itself.
It is early enough for coffee
eggs, pancakes, sausage...
and after a cigarette and another cup,
as the piano plays slow and soft
off in some back room of the house.
Quiet as a church mouse,
as I listen to composed beauty
of keys being pressed and music
coming and going.
No one plays the piano
it just sits there covered in dust,
but I remember when it was touched
in the right spots
and gave out the most lovely and warm sounds.
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