When I play piano, my grandmother wants to cry

By Grace Yu

This piece captures intergenerational strength and familial unity through a series of moments described through piano music.

Low, muted notes of a
fragmented harmony,
Like an old man dying, my mother said,
In his last moments, what was his song?

broken, warm, luminous, sunshine

This is why all the people in the nursing home
look with painful tenderness,
why five years of piano, of
taut muscle and hushed fingertips
isn’t enough to understand

Worshipful cadence leaning toward
gentle intimacy, kaleidoscopically
scattered melodies framing
a fragile break,
In this bright room, where is my sorrow?

My grandmother rests her work-worn fingers
on our forlorn couch, humming
her strength into veined hands
my wordless lyricism
penetrating hidden frailty,
my homely reverence
touching palatable stillness

My grandmother sighs, barely audible,
with tears in her eyes. And in the kitchen,
my mother starts to cry.

Performance

Process

I wrote this poem at a Girls Write Now Friday Night Salon with Darien Hsu Gee, who taught us how to write compelling micro narratives about our family and heritage. I wanted to write about me, my mother and my grandmother, three generations of strong women connected through our love of classical piano.