the piano teacher

i hear her

next door, the piano teacher,

playing,

after her students

have left,

gently striking

the keys.

it's soft.

melodic, sometimes she

sings.

we say hello

in passing, but

not much else, 

perhaps a casual

comment

on the wind

or rain.

a greeting come holiday.

i love her

in some strange

bewildering way,

her shy smile,

her slender hands,

but the walls

between will always

keep

us

at bay.