On Seeing "The Piano"

J.W. Ledesma
That woman

with the ruffled hats

that always hid her ears.

The one the little girl talked for

as they walked planks

in between sheds

so afraid of mud.

If I were her,

I would have led that piano

sink me.

Might as well finally

be heavy.

Seaweed feeling up your dress

and your hair floating down after you.

Published by J.W. Ledesma

I grew up in rural Indiana, roamed the world a bit, studied a bit and now call Indianapolis my home.  View profile

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