I hear a fine pianist
riffling up
and down the keys.
I can’t see the piano
or the player,
but mom, gone for
a dozen years, steps off
of a C sharp. I go
from room to room looking
for her. We don’t have
a piano. This must be
a dream, I tell myself.
Whenever I say that,
it’s not a dream.
Whenever I say this
is real, it usually isn’t.
That’s the dream.
The music
doesn’t stop…it fades
as does mom. Is she
sending a message,
that she’s in a world
of music? Or is she
looking for a way back
to Earth, stepping through
almost infinite notes,
Chopin leading her gently.
Kenneth Pobo (he/his) has two new books out in 2025: At The Window, Silence (Fernwood Press) and It Gets Dark So Soon Now (Broken Tribe Press).
