on a grey day
she walks from the station
and folds her dry raincoat
onto my stool —
I will sit taller at the piano
birdlike, this examiner
doesn't sit to listen
but hovers —
turning pages and pointing out
features of the music
next time
she conducts my exam
I must play her own sonatina —
she hurries me on
to the Chopin
a song written
on the train near Ashfield
says her note
… I hope someone else
still knows the tune
metal trunks full of paper —
so many melodies
hidden away
For Miriam Hyde 1913 – 2005
Julie Thorndyke (New South Wales)
First published in Yellow Moon
Also published in Women's Work
No comments:
Post a Comment
Now that Uneven Floor has retired from active publication, no new comments are possible — sorry. You're welcome to share the poem on social media and comment there.
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.