The Pianist

A poem written about the piano.

The pianist surveys the glossy keys,
Humming some susurrus-song.
Graceful breathing fills his chest,
Piano waiting far too long.

I watch him close his eyes once more,
And see his fingers strike the keys.
No longer does the piano wait,
Alluring music floats with ease.

Sifting through my ears it comes,
Then, too soon, the song is done.