Piano
Tuner
I always
admired
the blind piano tuner
sitting at his ebony workbench,
tuning tool in hand
to tension
fine wound steel strings
with ear of perfect pitch.
His cloudy eyes
would look right through the piano
while his left hand
would find
a tuning peg's braille
presence
in the body of the piano's open chest
and his right hand
tap an
ivory key for its percussive brilliance.
A piano is always tuned to itself
and so he was ocular to the strings of
her dignity.
A maestro in dark factory of pianos
he taught them to be noteworthy.
And at the end of the shift,
red tipped cane in hand
tapped his way home
into the evening's
arpeggio.
©2000