black and white in slow motion
push push
nervous keys and trembling fingers
push push
back bent and lips tight
in the solemn creation of
a stiff-lipped equation
someone else's harmonies
she casts a glance
a dying sun's
faded orange garment
cast away
slips down the street
running though the
tired oaks over cars
in sandbox childrens' eyes
rusted screen door
peeling shaded flowers
cupids and frozen deer
prance beneath still pages
black on white now
the soul delineated in
lines and spaces
fading small room
she folds her hands and head
bows, stares at the ivory
listens to his discontent
and the scratch of pencil on paper
pushes her.
i wrote this for my piano teacher of 10 years, Mark Hierholtzer. thank you for pushing me to do the best.
