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The keys remember her fingers~
soft thief stealing ivory light,
the hammers whispering
through felt and dust.
It waits, a black whale
beached in the entryway,
its ribs humming Debussy’s
Clair de Lune.
Play me, it murmurs,
and I will give you back
the weight of your mother’s hands,
the way they lingered
like slow rain
on a Sunday afternoon.
I do not know how to play the piano~
no one comes and the pedals rust.
And somewhere,
inside the walls,
a spider spins
a web of silent chords.
I understand that this poem is a memoir poem although PS doesn't have it as a cateogry to select.
Seagull swim in sky
Ocean drowns tan sandcastle
Beached black whale dying
I see a jaguar leaping in the clouds
A wizard is flying by on an imaginary broom
There’s a dog fighting with another one on the other side
And a black whale is swimming away in the opposite end
Children everywhere running scared
Here and there, many hares running helter-skelter
The wind is blowing fast
In an instant as soon as it occurred
It all changes into a blur
Yet another message Mother Nature intends me to discern
Let me set myself up to the task
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