Haibun

Give Me Entertainment  

  

We listen to the radio. Go to the movies on Saturday afternoons. Have board games and books. In summer, occasional trips to the beach or the amusement park. And, we have the piano.

 

It is an upright piano and sits in the parlor in my grandparents’ downstairs flat. It is a dark reddish brown with even darker streaks throughout. Shiny. Shimmers in the sunlight. My sister and I are  not allowed to touch it. Gert plays this piano. We beg and cajole her to play. Doesn’t matter what. It’s how she plays. The way her hands fly, faster, slower. The way the keys move without her ever touching them. The way her feet pump the pedals. Slowing down, a march becomes a dirge. Speeding up, a waltz becomes a polka. 

 

Stacked on top are the rolls. Wonderous sheets of paper perforated with holes and wrapped around a spool. We watch as Gert opens the sliding door and inserts a roll. She adjusts her posture, her hands, her feet. What will it be tonight?  Singing in the Rain, April Showers, Toot, Toot,Tootsie, The Blue Danube. 

 

simpler and better

is a question I don’t ask

of then versus now

            memories adjust by degrees

            on a sliding scale

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