I've been trying to get into this for a while, goodness knows what I was doing wrong
Silly poem; called Happy End
Tatiana Nikolayeva
the archetypal babushka,
the fat peasant on the Moscow Metro,
was a pianist.
Dimitri Shostakovitch
admired her so profoundly
that he wrote her a set of preludes and fugues
in the manner of Bach
Tatiana Nikolayeva
sitting there like a woolly teacosy
was playing with magisterial beauty
and she died