The Apostrophe Blog
The opening poem in my poetry collection, Every Door Recklessly Ajar—“And I Will Tell You a Story”—was recently re-published online in Fall 2024 at Poemeleon: A Literary Journal. It previously appeared in print in the journal, Gold Man Review, out of Salem Oregon.
Poemeleon: A Journal of Poetry was founded by Cati Porter in December of 2005. Each issue is devoted to a specific kind of poetry. The first issue, dedicated to the poetry of place, launched in June 2006, with subsequent issues dedicated to different kinds of poetry. To read past issues, click on “read the issues”, which will take you back to their legacy site, or use the bottom or side navigation to view issues on the post-2019 website.
AND I WILL TELL YOU A STORY
how the tree grew out of the piano
how the piano came to float
upright
out of the house on Anthracite Ave.
during those three days in June
our Agnes Flood splintered the door
wide-freeing the black, the white
keys from their silent, undone
sostenuto extending down the street
how the piano came to the traffic light
corner of Center & Main
how it crossed, made it as far as
the dike where it struck, lifted then lodged
into that bank of earth
the one that had failed at its first
duty to keep the necessary river out
how the piano stayed
unnoticed by the dump trucks bridging the borough
those weeks after
the waters receded & everything by then was
mud & dust & rust & reek & piles
of the ruined & disheveled
a dissonance from every curb
prolonged
how the piano remained
(seemingly) sight unseen
how silt from the spring thaw pressed in
rush & deposit
made a windowbox of its hammers & strings
how an accidental samara—maple or ash—
settled, split, grew a green
sprout in one year
tremelo stick in two
a sapling by five that would have taken
stronger arms than Samson’s to root out
how the tree grew & grew & grew
how a lonely woman one day walking
weeding the dike of trash
came upon it marooned
parted the foliage, scooped
her fingers into the damp
once hornbeam chords now crumbling
compost from felt
noted it was a piano
noted it accompanied a tree
carried a ladder from her home on the Flats
to lean against
to climb inside its quiet
études, serenades
climbed into the honky-tonk, topmost branch
where she saw
yet again
for the first time
yet again
time & again
the river that remained
pedaling horizontal
over-strung & tonic
loud/blood
artery & vein
one more world
between
the sharp, the flat
The public domain image above is the interior of a Steinway grand piano (model B-211), showing the strings, cast iron plate, soundboard and bridges and was taken by Kjethdubns.
Interests: Reading, writing, not arithmetic. The art and craft of poetry. Photography. Vegetable and flower gardening especially heirloom bulbs and dahlias. Movies in real theatres. Theatre on real stages. Art in real galleries. Crossword puzzles and, of course, Wordle. Singer-songwriters like Aimee Mann and Patti Griffin. All kinds of music especially 1930s jazz. Venice, Italy! The Dude abides.
- Life Going By in a Blur… - December 17, 2024
- Silent Morning, Unbuttoned Thoughts Rattling Around - December 6, 2024
- Publication News: “These Miles to My River” - December 1, 2024
