Burning the Piano in the Driveway
Alas, some dreams are better left unrealized.
Its keys stared back at me
Filling the hour I endured each day
Teacher demanded one new piece a week
And practice others for recital
Mom wanted me to play hymns in church
Like the Bryner girl did
I just wanted to ride my bike.
Decades passed and the piano rotted
Against the dining room wall
No one has stroked its keys in years
When Dad died, we cleared the house
Of clothes and a lifetime of debris
Sister bemoaned how Mom
Had followed an old fad
The piano morphed
From an ancient player without rolls
To a shiny, mirrored bit of décor
With spindled legs in front
And a flimsy music stand
Easily broken with a punch
From a frustrated child.
"We could've made lots of money
selling that old player. Mom ruined it."
I remember the torture of sitting there
Hands with too many thumbs
Fumbling through scales
Learning tunes my friends
Would never want to hear
Why was I doing this, why did I ask
For lessons when I didn't even
Care how music worked?
I stroked the keys before the junk man
Rolled the piano with its broken leg
And smudged keyboard
Out the door to his truck
As it lumbered around the corner
I thought, is that piano to blame
For fearsome fights with Mom?
Did it really deserve the revenge
I yearned to wreak upon it?
I envisioned flames rising in the driveway
Smoke swirling up through the trees
The gas can sitting at my feet
Like a faithful dog
As firefighters converge and stand amazed.
"It's a piano," one exclaims.
"Captain Obvious," I mumble,
Alas, some dreams are better left
Unrealized.
Oh! The perfect counterpoint to your previous piano post. Bravo, Sue! 🎶
This reminds me of the time I went to Burning Man in 1996 and someone had made a huge sculpture from old, broken pianos. You could actually go up and play them and hammer on the strings. But the most memorable part was later on when they burned the sculpture. The piano strings were eerily twanging and making cries as the pianos were incinerated.