A Test
By Mark J. Mitchell
If, on a winter night,
You entered a dim room
Where moonlight shone
On a black piano—If the cold night
Were silent and streetlights
Had clicked softly off—If the bones in your fingers
Were hard and stiff
And your knuckles locked—If you thought a child
Might be sleeping
Behind a heavy door—If gold liquid glowed
In a stemmed glass and
One flower drooped in a vase
As if staring at its reflection—If you’d forgotten
Everything you’d ever known
About music but
Could pick out middle C—
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