Piano Bench

sun setting,
...azure tint.
the piano bench empty,
dust gathers on the keys.

the grass damp with dew,
the wind still, and quiet.
the bookshelf sags
with books long ignored.

people walk by without talking,
darkness opens its mouth... swallows.
the lamp forlorn and chilled
waits without hope for a bulb.

nothing to say that can say,
words fall like leaves to the ground.
the room empty haunted by form,
curls up inside it's own hollow.
no fingers to touch the keys!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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