It was cold out, and I was early. The door was locked, so I sat on the front steps of the church, listening to the woman who took her piano lesson before me. She was good, better than I was, and the 

 

I envy the violinist, the trainer of a mahogany bird
perched on his shoulder.

They carried the lamps out as if they were children.

The piano remained in the hall, like an obelisk,
as if to haunt the place we had to leave;