Memories slowly crept back,
lighting yesterdays corners.
A piano stood,
waiting to be played
Behind the cameras
an empty directors chair,
with his name on it.
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: April 1st, 2020 12:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: MendedFences27
Offline)
Comments4
A fine write dusk. A piano is waiting to be played in a town centre mall here. It has a notice: 'Bang out of order at present' Due to the virus - don't touch?!
Unless someone has broken it.
This is either a love poem or a poem of hope, or, maybe both. It depends on the emphasis one puts on "his."
it's also a beautiful recollection of the start of one's musical journey. Reading this we can see that "piano" and sense the excitement or tension felt in anticipation of playing it. Thoroughly enjoyed this. - Phil A.
Times of a distant past brought to life by your words.
You've done it again d a, yet another wonderful musician of whom I had never heard. Great track.
Andy
Great imagery in your verse and oh that gorgeous voice and number - - thanks for the delightful interlude when I read and listened twice before adding this to my faves.
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