the pianist across the street

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