Sonnet XLIX (Church Hill IV)
I walk through the kitchen on creaking planks,
Away from the entrance and my entrance
Induced by the shrine of so many thanks,
Each step heralding my cautious advance,
Past the old stove with the pilot light lit,
That eternal flame ever set to spark,
Just turn up the gas and stand back a bit,
Make circles that burn bright blue in the dark,
To the upright piano where I pause.
The yellowed ivory, faded ebony,
Disobedient to musical laws,
Without you here to bring your harmony,
Still rings with memories of string and song.
I continue hoping you won’t be long.
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