old pianos
when i was a girl visiting
my grandparents in Tassie
i came across an old piano
in the forest flaking veneer
like the shoulders of a sunburnt child
there was an old hut nearby
& i wondered if the owners
had been moving the piano
either in or out of their home
(i could never decide which was saddest)
when they just up & left
what could cause them to
abandon something which
was clearly once so precious
why were they drawn away so suddenly
wait! the reason i ask does connect :
will that be all left of our world
in a hundred year’s time — just
old odd bits of junk being eaten
by rain & washed away by chords of wind?
I especially like the transience of human life and the “bits of junk” part, at just how fragile we are, in this timeless space.
“washed away by chords of wind” I love that line!