Graphic by Tony Glenwright
 | Natalia Zaretsky
From Under Your Fingers
To my daughter
…this hallucination standing on three legs,
this curious beast with its enormous moonlit smile.
— Billy Collins
A closed piano dozes in the corner,
striped with shadows
from a streetlight through the window.
It dreams its dreams and saves them
in the quiet, under a black curved wing.
In the morning you feed a flock of
black and white piano keys
off your loving palms.
And notes, sprightly birdlings,
fly from under your fingers
out of the deep soul of a piano,
beyond your past and future sadness and joy.
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