the piano

its open case
and intricate steel strings
felt hammers

its small black bench,
anxiously waiting in front of the ivory keys,
not the least bit pretentious

waiting for a amateur
to sit down
and drone out
a few familiar notes.

waiting for a Horowitz
perhaps
to take its seat
and bend ones perception of sound
and classical music

no matter,

here i am
this evening
sitting outside
of this girls apartment,
on a beat up porch
enjoying a comfortable cigarette
drinks on the way
christmas lights lining walls
blinking off
then on

listening to her neighbor
playing the piano

at first practicing scales,
then the pianist
shifted into a
flawlessly melancholy piece
which i can not adequately
describe

the notes
resonating
echoing
in the chill
october
breeze