Robert Wrigley

 

 

Piano in a Field of Grass

 

Lichen that grows on steel,

on the rod of the sostenuto pedal,

an abandoned baby grand

in a field of native grasses.

One that grows in the gutter

of the top board bowed by warp;

one what thrives on the white keys,

another darker one on the black.

One entirely festooned across the stump

that could have been a stool,

which looks even now sat upon

at length, possibly years, through a monumental concerto.

Now a rattlesnake

among the strings, drawn by mice,

arpeggios of scrabble and escape, sustained.

Also a steer scratching its ear upon the side arm

near the treble leg, moving the whole thing

back and forth and alarming the snake,

whose rattle seethes also into the strings

just as rain begins to fall.

 

 

 

Sven Birkerts

Matt Hanson

David Toomey