The man on top of the grand piano.

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The idea came to me as I was gazing inside my living room. The on top of my grand piano. Somehow I knew he was there for quite some time now. He felt my presence and gave that timid look. A little black man. Seems like an observer. He has a clear view of the horizon, pondering what lies there. Is he staring at me? Cold, frosted look. Have you been observing me since childhood? As long as I can remember, he never budge even a bit. Are you not blinded by the sun? Do you want me to close the capiz windows? Again, silence. Yet, a smile. A friendly smile from the image of my homeland, my ancestors, the man on top of the grand piano.