I used to pad
down the stairs
in pajamas
to wake her,
first sun striking
the banister
like the opening chord
of a piano concerto
igniting
a concert hall—
the sweep
of my small feet—
Beethoven at the keyboard,
me, broadcasting dawn.
I used to pad
down the stairs
in pajamas
to wake her,
first sun striking
the banister
like the opening chord
of a piano concerto
igniting
a concert hall—
the sweep
of my small feet—
Beethoven at the keyboard,
me, broadcasting dawn.