Two poems by John Wheway

    The Greatcoat My grandmother leaves me a greatcoat made from piano parts – keys stitched in rows like the feathers and wolves’ teeth of a chieftain’s ceremonial mantle. I don’t feel worthy to carry it on my shoulders. Is this Grandma’s reproach for my shirking remote scales and Czerny? But when I fasten the felt-hammer toggles across my chest, late Beethoven cascades from … Continue reading Two poems by John Wheway