An Old Piano Tuner in Vienna, and: Wallace Stevens on His Way to Work

An Old Piano Tuner in Vienna, and: Wallace Stevens on His Way to Work William Virgil Davis An Old Piano Tuner in Vienna I saw a report the other day that only thirty pianos had been sold in Austria last year. —Wallace Stevens Music is never old, as he’sbecome, listening the yearsaway, trying to get each notejust right, put everything inorder, so that those gatheredin the concert hall will under-stand how close they’ve cometo Mozart or to Brahms. Anearly autumn breeze is blow-ing in the trees outside thewindow. Offstage and out ofsight, he sits alone, listeningclosely in the fading light. [End Page 251] Wallace Stevens on His Way to Work On my way to work, not yet far from home,I see the same familiar scenes, listen asthe icy-mouthed stream eats its way alongbeside the walk I walk, and wonder whatthe weather has to say to one like me. CanI trust last night’s late forecast for heavysnow this afternoon? Should I rewrap mythroat in a second round of wool or pulla cap close to cover up my ears, and thinkabout the things I like to think about, asI plod along, this same way every day,a drudge to what I do, as if I know I knowexactly where I’m going—as I go? [End Page 252] William Virgil Davis Austin, Texas Copyright © 2023 Johns Hopkins University Press