Anna Chapman

Maestro Not

Poem by Anna Chapman

fingers full of broken promises
fall from the keys in a disarray of notes

next to an artist's thigh
onto an unpadded wooden bench

the harmonies stop flowing
and the ivory grows colder

the music stops
the music's died
for the piano man and I

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Read poems about / on: music

Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 21, 2004

Poem Edited: Sunday, November 21, 2004