A poem by Alison Lock

Piano Lesson

Under my palms are apples, skin red,
I feel their waxy blush as I hold them
in a tight but nervous caress.

I must not let them fall onto the keys
as my hands arch in a grip as they tip
over scales, throw arpeggios this way and that.

‘Have you practiced at all this week?’ she asks
with a ruler quiver-held on a crotchet
her swollen feet rest on the bar of my stool

enclosed in their thick sausage stockings.
My fingers pause then ‘Thwack’- they sting
all the way down to my green bones.
(from A Slither of Air, Indigo Dreams, 2010)
Alison Lock is a poet and writer of short fiction. Her first collection, A Slither of Air, was published as a result of winning the Indigo Dreams Poetry Collection Competition 2010. She has recently been working on a collection of short stories entitled, Above the Parapet to be published in 2013. She has an MA in Literature Studies from York St John University.