Abandoned Piano

Overgrown and off the path
sits an abandoned piano.
My fingers trace
its splintered wood,
lacquer long since vanished
by time and the elements.
I brush off the leaves
and a few layers of dirt.
The mouth of music smiles at me,
pine needles stuck between
its ivory teeth.
I press a key, expecting silence,
but the timbre bellows through the air,
scattering birds from their branches.
I feel the reverberation
bounce through my chest.
I wonder how long it’s been
since this piano has felt
the warmth of fingers.
Even in its abandonment,
it remembers how to play,
how to create beauty in solitude.
And my heart can’t help
but take note.