In search of story

Vagaries: October 11.16



best friend


curse and godsend.

 This clumsy chunk of wood and wire

monument to stubbornness

taught me to be

Queen of Stubborn


patient and impatient.

I had an itch

way deep

that made me touch the keys.

I had to play.

I cannot remember life without a piano

this love-hate relationship that coddled my inwardness

yet insisted the music go outward

so how can I think of life without it ?

No inanimate object, this,

but a being with breath


a forgiving affection for me.

Is it disappointed?

I was never great

but I was good.

More, I entered in to a human thing

the thing with music



we all itch.

Is it



Is it time to send this

wooden person

to the heap of my past

with dolls

and love letters?


2 thoughts on “Vagaries: October 11.16

  1. Heavens, no, if you can play that beautiful piano. I don’t have a musical bone in my body so I stick to ‘listening’ to music. 🙂

    • I think the need to listen to music is part of that itch. Real listening to music is mysteriously part of the performance of it — at least that’s the way I think of it. My playing these days is so pitiful that I have entered into this debate with myself. Is this still a wonderful musical instrument or just a vast behemoth that requires its own room? Back and forth I go. Thanks for your response!

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