the music stand rejigs
its metal and accepts the role of handmaiden.
After bedtime on a summer’s evening, I lie
eyes wide and gather clues
The stool stiffens
prim under the piano.
Pages of Massenet cut to the chase.
The violin case snaps: a conductor’s baton, tapping,
its swell-bellied treasure
craving a tune.
No-one will sing
though throats clear, pedals pump, fifths redress.
A shoe taps tempo; Dad’s voice clocks two, three, four.
Hush. My sister’s arpeggios roll in the dusk.
On this floor curtains swell, pillows fill,
I count too.
No need for sheep.
Meditation from Thaïs
clouds me in sleep. Lids drop like fingers
on keys, bow on strings. Slink out to play,
daytime is laughing out there,