The Tuner

The Tuner

With overalls and velvet crafted
box of tools he came
and touched my discord
pain and sour notes
faded keys heaped and
bruised in sharp contrast
to his gently pacing metronome

Soft of heart, he pried my
protesting crusted hinges
ashamed to let him see
inside, taunt strings
and broken chords

Deft fingers gripped
and burned my felts
softened notes
made harsh, by jolts
upheaval, moves
and clime extremes

He waited then touched again,
sharp then flat, black notes
clanged and tumbled
clunked and struck his hands
and pierced his feet
Slowing pace, he tapped

Alpha and omega pass
He tightened. Bleeding
smiling, tapping half notes
listening, tapping whole notes
smiling, tapping, gently
touching, softly whistling

With prophetic grace
my chords collimate
alongside his silent scales
while deaf ears strain
to hear the symphony.

© Elsie Montgomery