I skim my palm along the edge of the water. The puddle vibrates, like the strings of a guitar. My palm shatters the watery mirror - In ripples, the reflections disappear. I watch the streetlamp slip away… In the pools of water my fingers land, shifting the notes from sharps to flats, spinning the chords into clouds in the sky - The bells of the orchestra chime as they rise. My stanza. My melody. My fingers glide along the piano keys. I play each chord accordingly - Dribbles of water from A-Sharp to D. Each note that quivers softens the hymn, The streetlamp hums with a sway in its limbs. *** I assure you, my verse has just begun as winter snow melts its way into puddles the chorus of my song will shimmer with each ray of light fed by the stars, the sun, or the electrical wires. *** As the night sky shifts its way into light
The orchestra chimes its final delight
The streetlamp dims and glows as it sways to the hymn while the water evaporates. It leaves damp cement on the curb and roadway Memories of my palm sliding along the piano's keys and the strings of the guitar. This is my stanza - My melody A quivering song on the rigid concrete.
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