Silver Apples Of The Moon

There is a piano now, here in the Manor. It arrived this morning. A little Baldwin spinet, birthed in the 1960s. It is a sturdy and game little being. We are learning each other.

There is a great poem by Lew Welch, called “He Thanks His Woodpile.” It goes like this:

The wood of the madrone burns with a flame at once
lavender and mossy green, a color you sometimes see in a sari.

Oak burns with a peppery smell.

For a really hot fire, use bark.
You can crack your stove with bark.

All winter long I make wood stews:

Poet to stove to woodpile to stove to
typewriter.      woodpile.        stove.

and can’t stop peeking at it!
can’t stop opening up the door!
can’t stop giggling at it

“Shack Simple”

crazy as Han Shan as
Wittgenstein in his German hut, as
all the others ever were and are

            Ancient Order of the Fire Gigglers

who walked away from it, finally,
kicked the habit, finally, of Self, of
man-hooked Man

          (which is not, at last, estrangement)

That’s what it’s like here now, with this piano.


4 Responses to “Silver Apples Of The Moon”

  1. 1 possum May 11, 2012 at 1:33 am

    Congratulations. We here in Possum Valley have a hearty appreciation for music and the joys of a new instrument at hand. May the wonder never cease.

  2. 2 Elva May 11, 2012 at 8:39 am

    Do you remember all the piano lessons you had when a we-little boy?
    Let us know what song your going to play first.

  3. 3 sally May 11, 2012 at 9:46 am

    I practiced chop-sticks for years — never got good at it. Happy your Manor has room for a piano! You must feel as if you are living in paradise? And you left the 100 acre wood — did you bring young’ ‘un with you –or did he choose to stay behind? Hate to get personal here, but Inquiring Minds want to know. I will come visit when you master Malaguena (SP??) and I can play chopsticks… hmmmmmm. Namaste xoxox

  4. 4 nancy a heitzeg May 13, 2012 at 9:07 am

    Yes! ~ a “Rhapsody in Blue” then…: )

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When I Worked

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