White deep feathered

White like snow

Deep like ice

Flying together direct

Eye's forward

No conversation

Silent bird but wind

waving past hearing

Destination

Home

The Piano

January 25, 2009

The Piano

The wall holds a space where the piano used to be. The piano that belonged to her children’s fathers father. The piano that she lugged around for 12 years up and down stairs, across hardwood floors. Always always the heavy dark piece that weighted upon her like a steel anvil.

She didn’t know it then though. She didn’t know it all these years. She dragged its veneered, scarred and cigarette burnt body around with her like a deal she’d made with the devil.

She looks at the space that it used to occupy seeming like an abandoned place, abandoned by anything really, an old relationship that should have died or did die many years ago…abandoned by a much younger and impatient woman. That woman doesn’t live here. She stayed in the memory of the life that helped mold her yet held her back in too many ways. Now she is older but she is free.

She unstrapped the monkey and took it from her back. She walked away standing up now, breathing, letting go.

Now the place where it was, taking too much precious room in her soul, is free also.

And what fills this space is her own creation...

Her own life from now on