Metronome

The metal pointer ticks from side to side.

She struggles with Chopin by candlelight

with nothing but its ticking is her guide.

()

Cold steel glints silver in the golden light:

the metronome, her flying hands, her eyes.

The metal pointer ticks from side to side.

()

Red silk, soft hair, shine through the glass divide.

A steel machine waits on the other side

and nothing but its ticking is her guide.

()

No adversary but herself to fight.

They stare each other down by candlelight.

The metal pointer ticks from side to side.

()

Her hands above the keys halt in their flight:

one flesh, one metal, frozen in her sight,

This ticking is a prison, not a guide.

()

Her songs and candles glow. One mind, one voice.

The girl at the piano makes her choice.

To fly the stars, a child must leave her home.

It's time, at last, to stop the metronome.