February 25, 2015

Pianissimo


Early each morning
far down the hall,
my wife plays piano,
her fingers on the keys
hardly at all,
only she
knows the melody.
She always says
she plays just for me,
but I'm lost in silence
until the walls finally echo
her refrain,
the music flowing back slowly
over me, again,
to a time long ago,
when first
her song
began.