ManicDDaily

Moving the Piano

The wind blew so hard it seemed that it might lift the wood
like a sail,
but it only whipped at the pants,
of the two short men, who felt obliged, at that point, to prove
their own strength. The legs of the beast—that is, the Upright—
transfixed as a bull’s
at the bottom of a high stoop, bruised grass beneath it, and uneven
frozen earth. 

So, slowly, with arms stretched like cords,
legs braced, spines pushing a weight that pushed
back, flngers as clenched as at a recital, the men
shifted the dark wood—you could feel the ivories’ smirk—

Until they were in. 
The men laughed then companionably, bending back one hand,
then the other, and closed the door to shut out
the wind’s harsh howl.

Wheeled the piano now, well, more or less wheeled it,
to its allotted spot—it was like a small triumph
of the human spirit—
the making of our own
music.

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Another drafty poem. The pic was the only piano I could find (that I had made.) The one in the poem is an upright not a grand. Have a good day!

This entry was posted on June 21, 2022 at 6:01 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: Karin Gustafson poetry, Manicddaily pencil drawing