In Memory, Toni Hardley
The pianist has taken all her bows.
In search of their refreshment,
The cognoscenti have left the hall.
Few of us remain at intermission.
Two stage hands wearing tuxedos:
One folds the giant ebony wing
Into its carapace,
While the other lovingly lids the ivory.
An honor guard,
They accompany the instrument
As it is lowered into a crypt
Beneath the stage.
Oddly bereft,
I am unable to anticipate
The orchestra’s imminent return.
I have lost the grand finale.
March 8, 2008
stevengoldenpoetry 