Saturday, 23 May 2015


Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet

The ebony and ivory keys glinted dully
in the reflected light from the skylight overhead,
despite their layer of attic dust.

It felt cold up here – far colder than the day warranted.
The keys felt cold to the touch – the tinkling notes
fell like shards of fractured glass .

The drop in temperature increased – It had to be you.
Nobody else I knew could play a Chopin nocturne
with such lyricism and delicacy – B major I believe.

I whipped my head around to catch a glimpse of you
so fleeting and just as I remembered you last.
Pale, intense, flicking black hair from your eyes,
impatient to be gone – and now you were.


The photograph is one taken by a friend Ross Beckley - you can find more of Ro'ss's great work on his link -

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