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


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