the grand finale

By: Radhika Shah

the ovation is thunderous & lasting for performances past
as i wait behind plum-velvet curtains

anticipation tastes of iron & turns my palms leaden
i am filled with wild, uninhibited ambition

yet i hear a thousand footsteps
& doors open as they all file out

some tedious novice, no doubt, they think,
snatching up their mousy coats & drab hats

i look out at rows upon rows of empty red-vinyl seats,
nearly no one left to hear my coda,

if a tree falls in a forest & no one stays to listen,
does it even exist?

still, i step out under a mocking, too-bright spotlight & bow
blinking back salt as i begin,

my fingers trace the unfamiliar piano,
faltering & floundering & flailing

lightning-quick where i should have lingered
hesitating & halting & hurrying

the once–deafening applause is scattered & meager,
my once lovely piece lies butchered, broken by my haste

the heavy mauve curtains fall to a weary & apathetic audience
the lights shut off, the mic is gone– yet my traitorous hands itch

the grand piano seems to beckon, glowing
& i am powerless, held captive by its call

entranced, i find the keys once more,
glinting ivory & ebony under my fingers

yielding as a sweeter melody pours out
magical & meandering & majestic

the spell ends, echoing in a vacant auditorium,
& i am the only witness