Charles
Fishman
Chopin's
Piano
On
September 19,
1863, 14 years
after
his death,
Russian soldiers
. . .
in
Warsaw hurled
{Chopin’s}
piano
to
the street
from a fourth-floor
window.
We
were not there
to hear it
and
all the witnesses
are gone
but
the sound of
that falling
lingers
They
came at dawn
to play it
and
were deafened
by the drone
We
were not there
to hear it
Not
a chord could
please the
ear
each
note jarred
to the bone
We
were not there
to hear it
But
such maestros
tire soon:
they
would write
mazurkas études
with
bayonets and
guns
We
were not there
to hear it
but
we’ve
learned the
tune.
What
was that crash
- its hood
lifting
and
slamming down?
And
what is that
loud
insistent
clanking -
doors jimmied
off
and
awkwardly dropped?
Is that
a horn
sounding
in the night
or something
darker
that
needs to speak?
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