10 December: The Piano

The Piano

The piano goes in the basement.
Dad insisted. He said he couldn’t
hear the TV when I practised.

Our piano was missing two back wheels.
Lost them when the piano fell down
the basement stairs.

It was a laid-back thing. Looked drunk
up against the cement block wall.
That wall, always wet during winter.

Just opposite it was a full height
cupboard filled with preserves, and
canned fruit and veg. Best pickles ever.

Next to that: a wringer wash machine.
Mum called in a mangle.

Later Dad had a change of heart.
He taught himself to play the piano.
He was 82.

I reckon that everyone harbours
a song somewhere inside them.

AI Digital Art: created using Midjourney’s bot (v4b) Image and poem ©Misky 2022 Shared on Twitter #amwriting

13 responses to “10 December: The Piano”

  1. Very topical. I was just practising myself. I go through phases. But tonight, I was practising with my son playing violin. We were practising a version of Jingle Bells that he composed himself. He was very patient with me. 🙂


  2. “It was a laid-back thing. Looked drunk
    up against the cement block wall.”

    Love those lines; the imagery is ideal!


      1. Most welcome! Do you play? 🎹


        1. I used to. My fingers are too stiff nowadays. I sold it to a piano teacher who was thrilled to have it.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I’ve got the same problem. Used to play both piano and organ but arthritis and knee replacement made playing pretty much impossible. We still have the piano if our grandkids ever want it.

            Liked by 1 person

  3. What a beautiful ode! I have always wanted to play the piano


    1. It’s never too late to learn!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Aww the poor piano! I feel its pain falling down the stairs, being relegated to a basement and next to a damp wall. I’d like to hear its point of view in this poem! (lol)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I reckon that old piano was beyond considering itself precious – it was content with a bit of company every day.


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