Sibelius’ Piano

I knew of course
He played naked when he could

And hired men to raft it
Through Karelia

So he’d have it
For his honeymoon—

That he preferred the violin.
“The piano doesn’t sing,” he said

Leaving unspoken
He made love

Beneath it
His Egypt above.

When the docent wasn’t looking
I touched it

It was a sarcophagus.