Piano | Peyton Mills

I wake up early in the morning
to get ready for work.
I complete my morning rituals
and head down stairs,
each one creaks with every step.

I head into the dining room,
but something feels off.
I look to my left and hit the light switch.
The switch turns on a single light
plugged into an outlet on the
opposite side of the room. 

Something is blocking the source,
for all I see is a silhouette.
Something massive is set
before me. As I move closer,

my eyes begin to adjust and
I realize what this thing is.
It is my grandfather’s grand piano.

Why is this here? 
My grandfather lives in
The more I look at it, the more I realize
there is no other thing it could be. 
Just like my grandfather’s,

the door to cover the keys is missing,
and the same three keys are
I walk to the other side. 

There are scratches all over
the back, and there is a dent
on the first leg in the exact
same spot. I look to my right
and see a stool in the corner
almost completely hidden
in the blackness of the room.

I take it and seat myself
in front of the piano.
I stare at the familiar sight in front
in front of me. The smooth keys

as their gloss shines from
what little light is present.
I think I’ll stay home today
and do nothing but play.