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My Incognito

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By Julie D., Wellesley, MA

    Lately my piano playing has improved.

I sit down on the bench and automatically

my fingers start to play, but only my

fingers are playing.

Inside my head the wheels of my brain are turning.

My fingers simply play over and over what they have

been drilled to do.

It's a cover-up; a disguise, then I don't have to deal with

that age old saying, "Penny for your thoughts,"

Nobody knows I've been thinking,

and therefore nobody thinks I have something to hide

if my constant reply is, "Nothing."

My thoughts remain private and untampered with.






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