I used to visit you every afternoon.
The hours we spent were sometimes frustrating,
But earnest in their striving.
Driven by dreams,
I was young then.
Your response to my fingers was bliss.
Touch was a teacher of gentleness,
Weighted fingers from forearms or back
Lyrical caresses and sonorous pinched chords
I loved the fire you stirred.
Thank you for teaching me that patterns
Your black and white keys, so familiar,
remind me to use their pattern to safely navigate
the length, breadth, width, and height.
They give me a place to start
Can I find you again?
Seated on the bench before you.
In my mind, I can hear the faint sounds we used
Music scored with memories of my lifetime.
My fingers feel the keys without touching them.
Are you waiting for me?
I used to play you to please others.
Now, I have learned I must play first for myself.
I miss you.
8 thoughts on “Dear Piano”
I do hope you get your hands on those keys again to play for yourself. I love this line: “Music scored with memories of my lifetime.” Thank you for this poem.
Thank you Cindy! I appreciate your feedback. Music does get attached to so many memories! I think you have written about that, too, if I remember correctly. Happy Spring Break!
Such a lovely letter to an object I know you love. You included perfect details allowing the reader to sense how much you like playing. I also hope you can return to it.
Actually, I think writing is helping me get back to my music, too. They are connected:)
I don’t know if you meant for this, but this is a beautiful ode. I have this down to use during my Patchwork Poetry project and I have printed this off to use as a mentor. There is so much we learn from creativity, whether it is writing, art, or music. I hope you find that love and passion again!
Thank you! I’m excited for your poetry project!
I read this awhile ago and had to come back to comment. What stayed with me was the physicality here. Whether gentle or ferocious, your movement in your hands comes from your back. The keys are physical to you; you make us. Feel their dimensionality. For me, all this adds strength to your lovely homage, adds weight and grounding.
Thank you, Fran, for understanding the things I wanted to say. I hope I’ll see you on the 11th.