“Coda,” by Mark Perlberg
When I was six or seven
you stopped singing
as you moved about the house
as you dressed for evening
I’ll see you again whenever
spring breaks through again
Time will lie heavy between
Remember the night
You played the piano
a piece with vivid Spanish
figures
I recall the fringed peach shall
on the polished mahogany
When did you learn to play
you must have spent hours practicing
Why did you stop singing
If I had thought to ask
these questions when I was older
could you have found a way
to answer