Me on the easy end, four steps above,
barking my shins as we bumped it down,
Dad below, at the base, trying to do it all,
as always, sweat beading, tendons cording
with the effort to wrest that whole black piano
down that narrow, impossible passage–
as I let it go–I had to–
the weight of it slowly pulling away
like a great ship
casting off for icy waters.