— folded · straps fastened —
oxblood, the colour of a closed lung. the bellows compressed all the way, sixteen pleats deep, the strap fastened across so it cannot open by accident. it sits in the bottom of the cedar chest under a folded shawl that smells faintly of camphor.
one button on the bass side does not return. the treble keys are even and slightly sticky from the day someone put a cup of tea down beside it. a small leather patch over the air valve, sewn in by hand, gives the instrument the look of an animal mended after a fight.
the man who played it played for parties — weddings, the long september when the river flooded and the church hall was full. afterwards no one had the right kind of arms for it. closed in the chest, in silence, it lets out a slow sigh each time the house warms by a degree — a single quiet chord through the strap, half lost to the rumour of the boiler.
field-note: a programme from a 1979 dance, folded under the strap on the left side.