My Song

The words are etched out in song,

now – a tune I know so well I may pick up

the piano or guitar, strum a few notes.

But I’ll just hum along instead,

painting in my mind with gentle strokes

to make the river flow: shades of gray glide

swiftly over rough waves, a rippling current

of long, sad notes I once wished to perfect

on my own.  But if I open my eyes and just

listen at moments of silence such as this,

I swear I can still hear those watered-down

words, gliding into the warmth.

September 21, 2012

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s