Piano Stool

by Peter Goldsworthy

Peter Goldsworthy

Silent night
in the composers' locked cell:

Frederic coughs, Old Bach snores,
Wolf lies down with Franz.

Even you, Claude
(yes, you---nearest the hatch,

first released,
last imprisoned each day),

sleep, finally, hidden
from all the moonlight

and watery noises.

you will each be taken

for exercise
and further questioning:

painful, perhaps,
but only to the ear;

for make no mistake,
one day you will sing

loudly, perfectly,
spilling everything,

and everything
will suddenly be clear.

Last updated February 20, 2023