Piano Keys

I'm alluding...

The piano’s keys savored her fingerprints,

proof they once had played

the way grass regards its resplendent green tint,

a stained signer of sodden rain.

In four thirsty years they did not make a sound,

and soon they behaved

like a cast atmosphere that abhors its clouds,

cool, gray, and its reason shaded.

Turn the piano keys, miss, they are stringent,

unloved and untouched,

and let them sing their day of independent

notes they play, uninterrupted.

Reviews

[BrightEyes]

this brought so many images to mind - the literal of a forgotten, dusty piano - devoid of the wonderful music it could produce - to images of more metaphorical lines - a life lived lonely - devoid of the companionship it craves. excellent work here.

laura

[Clouded in Hopeful Illu..]

This one is amazing. It really paints a clear picture of an unused piano in my mind.

I think you did a great job with the details on this one. There isn't too much but there is definatly enough to understand that the keys seem to be lonely.

I really like how you went from past to present on this one. Such as from when she used to play the piano and to where the keys long for her touch once again. This is definatly a great piece of work.

[Kelly Scheppers]

It's as though the keys spoke to you, and you gave them a voice...what clarity, what volume!

I've always wanted to write about a piano, since I can't play one. Now at least, I have been inspired!

My pleasure,
Kelly

[No One Important]

it is eloquently written and expressively worded...I can almost hear the tune...

[J.P.O.et]

Wow, I really like this one ALOT,
It really flows when read aloud in that perfect inflection, know what I mean
'signer', can you explain your aim with that word to me as I was thinking signal
but this one overall impresses me, Thanx, Travis
J.P.O.et