Headphones on, a morning outside.
Piano notes dance in my ears light and quick
The coronet paints
Distance in long tones, spooling out in
Ribbons of gold, peach, deep blue.
My eyes rest briefly on
Vivid vermillion nasturtiums,
Easy to grow - with faith, and
Patience and something about them
Sparks a memory...
Me, eldest daughter finding
Refuge of a sort in the old upright
Piano, purchased at some
Yard sale - a sad, dull gray, but
We painted it bright cherry red.
Practicing was tedious
Scales and chords and Czerny combinations
Assigned compositions that
Sounded not at all like the
Rock and roll on the radio.
But when they showed their
Colors to me - I could paint them in my mind, I could
Give them names and places in a musical family tree.
Chorded conversations - and sometimes
Arguments in loud angry dissonance.
Baby Blue B and
Yellow Sister D and
Green Grandpa G can make for a
Harmonious major chord
Walking down the road for ice cream.
Synesthesia is what
Science calls this, but
Why, when Science decides
On a name, does it sound
Like disease?
I would love to have
Time and space for
Many pursuits,
Piano among them, just not
Czerny.