play me a tune, mr piano man ~
with apologies to billy joel
this is the music I hear at 3 a.m.
leafy sticks and twigs
the piano a ruined instrument
but still attempting music
notes lift dusty from the keyboard
broken into fragments: a quarter note
becomes 1/16, a whole note just a half
time means nothing now
the pianist exhausted in their chair
wrist extended broken into pieces
of a life reaching for music
still and nothing they can hear
but I hear it curling through dreams
dust mote notes sifting through sleep
leaf and twig and splintered wood
what I know so well
Lovely work—curling through dreams is such a beautiful phrase!