A Note of KeyA Poem by Spencer Barker
A steaming in the room,
enfolding in it the peach, rose pink of a late afternoon. Walls dusted in a flurry, a sugaring of treat. But in the center! A sheet, illuminated in the heat. Gone with a flourish, a blizzard of late Winter, the keys are shown once more. Oh, black on white, what a lovely sight! A creaking of the bench, a transition of thought, one must seek a clenching note. The piano stood stronger than ever, then I wrote.
© 2016 Spencer BarkerAuthor's Note
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