Table Piece (Bonampak)
Maybe it is bleached white from the desert:
A discarded hurdy-gurdy
Turned to stone in the Kapadokian sun.
Maybe it is Parian marble chiseled by Myron.
Translucent like skin
White as flake salt
Maybe it is my first piano, my toy piano.
Prized above all my pianos
Where once I banged away
For this was the beginning of it all, the It.
Now in my late years I paint my toy white;
But it is not a toy but the yearly ritual
Of my decay.
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