Hand Span

It's not good for a man
to be alone,
except at the piano.
If your right hand offend thee
add a bass note.

Strolling blues,
the envy of angels,
hand span halleluiahs
crimp demons, double octaves
chase the devil from chorus
to coda.

Exchange the time clock
for a metronome
and you're home on seven
continents.

Bars and spaces
frame the soul,
long dead Europeans
and ghetto saints
lay out the truth
on black and white
keys to the kingdom. 

If Mama made you play
thank her today,
if she didn't,
she will.