The Old Piano


The old piano-

A near-boneless piece of dusty mechanics,

lay bedridden in a forgotten corner.

Some yellow-stained ivory keys still play,

but the sweet melodies from yesteryear

are forever replaced with the clanky morose sounds

of the antique Gulbransen.

Within time, chipped ivory pieces

lay in puddles, underneath

with white plastic keys replacing them.

And the once-fine cherry wood framework,

is now scratched and worn

by claws of human touches

Dusty insides,

kept intact only by the strength

given from those that built

with hands and emotion.

Strings and hammers are smothering

from the thick glaze of dampened time.

But, still, there is one thing

above all others

that has laid the old piano

to its rest-

Sinister loneliness is the real destroyer

for from upstairs can be heard,

the sweet melodies of yesteryear

(that used to be heard right here)

on the new piano.


Barb Benson

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