If Yeats could opt for a tower as a symbol
I have chosen my grandmother's piano.
More than a century old,
it has a decayed elegance,
pitched a semi-tone
below a concert grand.
Its mellow romantic timbre
would have suited Chopin
or Tchaikovsky and not the Bach
and Haydn I imposed upon it.
The upper and lower registers ring
but the middle octaves twang dismally.
Similarly, I am battered,
subdued and of a long gone style.
I resonate to the extremes
of joy and sorrow
but am out of tune
for the commonplace and banal.
The tuner is coming tomorrow.
I cannot speak for the piano
but hold out no hopes
that i will change for the better.
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Diana,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your new poems. I especially liked "Piano" and, of course, your comments on peace which I agree with wholeheartedly. (I am making a comment rather than sending an email since I never heard if my emails were getting through again-so assuming not-a puzzle.)
We have been well and much too busy; are now looking forward to getting back to a pace that suits us better-with time for reading, painting, working on the tree farm and excursions with friends out into our dearly loved Oregon. It now looks as if we may be able to get a grant to pay for help in restoring the tree farm to good wildlife habitat. We have done most of the work ourselves to date and have to laugh at ourselves-doing all this hard labor, bloodied by blackberry vines, dirty, sweaty, etc. for no pay and loving it! The worst is yet to be done though and it will be good to watch someone else do the really hard stuff.
I continue to look after my old friend's son who is doing so much better. He talks of having a new life and loves the group home where he lives now- I hope he continues to thrive, he certainly deserves it after 20+ years on the streets and the horrible time he had last year (hospital burn unit for a month, then open heart surgery and nursing home for a month).
Mother also continues to do well; she will be 90 this year so we are planning a big party for her. Must get to bed; have an early start tomorrow-
Peace and love, diane
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer. Albert Camus