Cobwebbed piano
the echo of my footstep
left upon the air
my breath
a ghost
before me
this cold cold day
I play
the only key
that doesn't
play
except in memory
now
a summer's day
my fingertips touch
your fingers
as they play
the note
held in the air
still
... so still
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem