The piano will play us
one key at a time
Black white contrasting notes
of impossibility
drifting out across open
second story
untold stories.
I have given
very little
so many times
The distant winter song
of snow deep isolations
and how your foot prints
are erased each night beneath
the numbing blanket of tomorrow’s
fresh fall.
I'm checking the bathroom mirror
for signs of your breath
I'm checking my skin
for signs of your caress
how you mark me
indelible
but ultimately
invisible
The piano plays you
a concerto rising on the escaping
heat of today
bleeding into the welcoming embrace
of another crisp empty
Hearing you
is not the same as contact
but I will reach beyond
the length of my bare arms
past the stretch of fingertips
seeking without sight
touch without skin
Till
we become
a remembered chord
of a forgotten strain
running together
to hum and harmonise.
3 comments:
Beautiful.
Thank you.
I love the way this keeps sliding tantalisingly just beyond my fingertips ... never quite in reach. It dances away across the fields, through the long grass, like a mischeivous child.
It's quite unusual. I like it. The use of abstraction is interesting and quite effective mmm I think that's what makes the poem seem so elusive, but it works somehow.
Very clever of you :)
I especially like this part:
I'm checking the bathroom mirror
for signs of your breath
I'm checking my skin
for signs of your caress
how you mark me
indelible
but ultimately
invisible
do you play the piano?? My mum was a wonderful pianist. I miss hearing her play.
Hi Bridget, thanks very much, I will try to post some more soon *smile*
Moon~ I have never played the piano, but I have always loved the sound of it, it is music of a particular tone/style, in a class all its own for me.
Sounds like your Mum was very good at it *soft smile*.
Maybe one day, in my spare time *rolls eyes*, I will learn , I would like to try.
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