Pink Butterfly

Mama's Keyboard

Mama used to have a Keyboard

with an on/off switch

and a dial to make the drums beat.

It stood on wooden legs 

next to the window

that looks across at

rows of other apartments, 

with tiled paths

edged in concrete planters below.

Mama would sit on a stool,

crack the window 

to let in the outside air 

as she played

from memory,

eyes closed, 

shoulders straight, 

body swaying 

forward and back,

as if she were a flower

bending in a slow breeze 

as if her fingers were petals 

tapping sounds in the air.

we sold that keyboard

because food 

became more important 

than music.

Now, three years later

Mama's fingers can only 

run over the edge of the tabletop,

remembering what it was like to be free