Piano Lesson

Waiting room.
I chose the couch
With the view of the bench
And your back when you play.
I brought a book
Apparently just to hold in my lap.

I know all of these pieces
But at home
You fly through them
In a race with the timer,
In a hurry to do
Anything else.

Your body blocks your hands.
I see the music in your shoulders
And your back.
I want to sit next to you,
Watching your fingers or
Playing Secondo.

When it stops,
When you stop playing,
My 7 year-old reappears -
Self-conscious, uncertain, awkward.
"Um... I don't know."

If only you could be
Always confident, proud, graceful,
Always playing the piano.

I like this place.



April is National Poetry Month so, in honor of that, several other writers and I are posting a poem-a-day for the whole month. If you decide to post a poem too, let me know and I'll post a link so we can all read it.