Piano Epistemology
I’m pretty sure this piano exists,
taking up a whole corner of this room as it does
with its grand heaviness,
its black curviness,
and its 2 legs in front, 1 in back.
But just to make sure,
instead of kicking it
or banging my forehead against it,
I’m going to sit down on the adjustable bench,
lift the long glossy cover,
and try to play “Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most”
in such a way that the notes will represent
the many undeniable things of the world
and the chords the way
we can’t help feeling about them.
Apostrophes
“O Goddesss!”
Keats hailed fair Psyche.
“O Soul,” wrote Donne,
wondering where it dwelled.
“O World, O Life, O Time,”
proclaimed rhapsodic Shelley,
then Yeats looked down
at the earth and offered
“O’Leary in his grave.”
Beauty
This morning,
a man on the radio said
“After the storm,
there was quite a great deal of beauty,”
which reminded me
of how difficult it is
to talk about beauty,
especially when quite
a great deal of it
is given to us
before, during, and after every storm.