Katrina Kaye

There must have been more to you.

A strength kept far
below your commonplace skin;

a philosophy found
in the keys of grand piano.

Perhaps I never noticed it
because it was in your hands,

the clean nails and posed
fingers of a pianist.

I was looking at a face
too eager to avoid my glance.

Maybe you didn’t play at all and
that secret was resting beside ear drum

and closed eyes as you followed
the notes with nodding head.

But oh,
how the staccato pierced me,
repetition and awakening,

The familiar and the cloaked
taking turns at who leads the dance.

The known or unknown, sage or novice,
Teacher becomes student and student-teacher.

Of all I have learned from doing
nothing more than listening,

this lesson is one of the sweetest.

“To the student who introduced me to Philip Glass:” is previously published in Verse Vital (2023).