Willing horse

I am playing at the piano and as I explore,
fingers of both right and left hands moving on the keys,
each note and chord is beautiful.
A childhood schoolmate is in the kitchen
and the question of what I have accomplished comes up.
She is affiliated with banking,
which would please my father, and I say to myself.
“I have written something I am proud of.”
Not comparing.
I am pleased, satisfied.
Then, of course, I am going down the street and realize I am naked.

Maybe there are no clothes for writers
and playing music gets you out the door.

In the morning a CBC Q interview, Tom Power with Alanis Morissette:
A song comes from and for the person writing it.
Once it is out there, it belongs to everyone.
Use it for yourself.

I think about being carried,
that some art is like a willing horse carrying when needed
and dreams are like that too.