The Piano Tuner
Under the full moon
Of her parasol
she becomes a star
without ever knowing,
it is something to do
with the red of her dress
burning
into a sepia scene.
She has become the red note
in a foreign tune
reflecting
the photographic mirror
of light and water,
reflected
on ivory keys.
She is the perfect pitch
Of his rising sun.
Interval
On the stage
there is an empty
trio.
Their music sits
on stands their chairs
are bare wood
it would be hard
for a cellist to lean
forward
and remain stable.
Lights highlight
the instruments in
the centre one sits
on the lap of the chair
the others lean on
wooden arms they wait
for their triggers
to be plucked,
for the black notes
to be fired.
(c) Jenny Powell-Chalmers. All rights reserved.
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