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Sport 25: Spring 2000

Albeniz from a window

Albeniz from a window

behind her locked door
she strums at the piano
as if it were an eighty
two string guitar

the rippling notes fall from
the window like yellow leaves
gust about the stone courtyard
lift and fall delicately again

page 106

the faces on the gallery wall
had been stern with wire-framed
spectacles blotched anonymous stares
and they had frightened her

she plays this music now
to mock their rigidity
outside sparrows peck rice
from a white plastic spoon

they darken in the varnish
of the late afternoon sun
then frightened rise like leaves
through fingers of shadows

she closes her eyes against
the faded jugglers in their frame
the frozen skittles
then rests
her hands in the safety of her lap

the silence settles like hope
soon her first pupils will arrive
they will call their names
before she unlocks the door