Piano in a Field of Grass
Lichen that grows on steel,
on the rod of the sostenuto pedal,
an abandoned baby grand
in a field of native grasses.
One that grows in the gutter
of the top board bowed by warp;
one what thrives on the white keys,
another darker one on the black.
One entirely festooned across the stump
that could have been a stool,
which looks even now sat upon
at length, possibly years, through a monumental concerto.
Now a rattlesnake
among the strings, drawn by mice,
arpeggios of scrabble and escape, sustained.
Also a steer scratching its ear upon the side arm
near the treble leg, moving the whole thing
back and forth and alarming the snake,
whose rattle seethes also into the strings
just as rain begins to fall.