Fingers unconsciously played…
the right-handed fingers-
on the dusty piano I've never touched.
I remember that day…
that stance when you played
on the piano like an angel;
or maybe a beautiful plumage of a bird-
The seriousness in that piece…
with the loneliness of your heart-
who were you playing it for?
The fingers tapped lightly,
the ting-ting sound…
the sound that maybe you started playing with;
the piece you played that day…
once again, can I recreate that mirage?
And maybe then… you might
come back.