Broken StringsA Poem by JamesListening to the rain prance on a darkened skylight keeping time with a banjo that's out of tune. I can hear a piano striking keys in another room carrying music through the walls as I break a string. The rat-ta-tap-tat of the rain beating above my head drowns out the melody of the night. I am afraid that I have no more poetry to write. The words that float across my eyes appear in blurred lines, dripping syllables in a foreign language that I can’t read. But the music moves through me. I can feel it roll over me, each measure is a rhythmic wave that ebbs and flows. And words form in lightning flashes. I hear them spoken in the thunder but they are lost before my pen can reach its paper. So I listen to the piano and see the notes form on the window pane and watch them disappear as the Conductor turns his page. © 2017 JamesFeatured Review
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8 Reviews Added on April 1, 2017 Last Updated on April 1, 2017 Author
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