the violin and the piano
their sound supersedes the
clamor and the simmering pot
not quite boiling
not quite understood
the floors mean nothing
they’ve since been replaced
replaced but not restored
never to be the same
appearing out of nowhere
like a silver moon in disguise
the music filters through
making my world come to life
the violin and the piano
still echo in these walls
comforting my sorrow
and giving me repose
september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
