My Mothers Piano

April 26, 2009
There it sits
Upon a corner
Thinking of old habits
During the days of a loner

Her keys are cracked
The oak will cost
The bench has been hacked
And her music is lost

This until that day of joy
When a young came to the town of maybe
She sat and played it like a new toy
Then took it home as her baby

Her keys now gleam with delight
Fifty-two are white as pearls
And thirty-six as black as night
But her music, is found within the girl

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