Playing the Piano

My hand touched the black and
white teeth of the piano.
The chalky piano keys buoyed silently
up and down, feeling the skin of
its pianist and rippling in its horizon.
With a back hunched and a head swaying,
I played the first note of Ballade No. 1 in G-Minor.

While bashing the piano with mad chords,
the wind soughed. A zephyr slinked through
an open window and whispered in my ear
a song which cried,"Forte! Fortissimo!"
My hands crawled the keys like nimble spiders,
then flogged the keys in a fisted mishmash.
The bass clef of the piano
reverberated and I could hear
a moan,
a groan,
and a wail.
"Piano. Pianissimo," the wind breathed.
I played quietly, barely touching the keys.

After the piano solo ended, I could only hear a hush, which is a fancy way of saying nothing.





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