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Piano Keys

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By Jean Anne Powell

 

Pounding on keys

clank clank clank

small chubby fingers

scattering crumbs

along spruce

 

Small fingers

find beat, find sound, find rhythm

dum, tadum, dum

swollen hearts and filled ears

at such vibrations

 

That can’t be music,

it goes beyond all of that

it’s more profound than that

more basic, built on instinct.

It’s got the subtle sound of a prodigy

 

Where is my mind

and the X Files theme;

my favourite noises

radiate from your fingertips.

It’s the only time I feel sisterly love

Maybe it’s the only way you know how to be my brother

 

The rest of the time

you’re spot ridden and puberty filled

sleeping in dusky rooms,

moody, shy, awkward

with a touch of knowledge

that’s just beyond all of us

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