Living Organs

As dusty brown as the loft
It rests in, its rusty crown
Soft with deflected sun
It’s keys ivory yet not so white
As to shine in the battened down
Window’s muted light
Such pipes as once breathed
Majestic airs, silver-gleam
In proud ranks still. Place
An ageing organ wheresoever
You will, it is part of a body, a
Living thing. Climb the stairs,
Open the doors, walk the floors,
Hear it sing.

Image may contain: indoor


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s