Antique Piano Teacher
By Christopher J. Bradley
Dedicated to Glenn Tilou

My antique Piano Teacher
Made my fingers grind
Like the spokes of a tinsmith phonograph
With tune and beat and time.

The keys of Ivory and Black
Easily fell down
To hammer high strung strings of steel
And make melodic sound.

At first co-ordination
Was an awful stretch
It took a lot to follow notes
And make my digits flex.

I haven't yet matched Beethoven
Or Bach or Tchicovski
But I can now spin jazz about
In harmonic minor C.

He granted me composing art
And organized my skill
Someday I'll put a tune together
With a plastic quill.

The harmony of days gone by
Lives beyond his den
In the accolades of disciples
Of his discipline.

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