Original Prose Poem: The Pianist


The Pianist was originally published under the pen name Capricious Lestrange in honor of National Poetry Day on Tea and Cake for the Soul, a fun and eclectic blog about art and life.

The Pianist In the morning, before her students begin to arrive, you can sometimes hear the velvet tinkle gliding on the air in delicate waves. The notes hold hands like paper dolls; never ending before the next begins. They dance across the cul-de-sac in their ball gowns and tutus. Plié into my living room where I stand mesmerized, dreaming. She has an accent, Russian or Baltic. I sometimes hear as she calls out to the neighbors when she walks her little dog, tiptoes on fragile heels to check her mailbox. She likes primrose pink and black, feminine lines, elegant cuts around thin hips, ample bosom. I imagine her in her prime, concert pianist behind the iron curtain; her aural dancing lulling weary souls in blaring white nights; too mythical for her old Kentucky home.

Be sure to stop by the original post, which includes some other great poets and poems, as well: National Poetry Day 2018.

 

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