Sunday filled with sweet memory,lighting up the cold and grey,
warmed by words that play
like a captivating tape
forever in my mind
Though I cannot share these thoughts
with anyone I know, used to burying
dreams in secret little packages,
or writing poems all clandestine,
staring in delight
The bittersweet melody of Chopin’s
nocturne in E-flat Major, indelibly
etched upon my mind by mother’s
frequent repetition, each time
the music more enchanting
Than before, the trilling notes on C,
that’s me, my heart fibrillating in
delight; the climbing notes, building
up to crescendo and the trill on F
representing tears of happiness
Rainbow feelings in frequencies
filling mind and soul…
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