The strains of Chopin’s Nocturnes played
below in the ballroom
where light tips off the great golden of the walls
and the candles sigh themselves to
Darkness sweeps over me.
lulled by the delicate touch on the piano,
the soft hush of the night air by the window,
my feet rise, tremble, turn.
my eyes, dreaming, watch those slender hands
glide over the piano through glistening tears…
There was a suffused glow in that chamber,
a music that drifted over the floor
in heartbreaking, surefooted notes.
Here, I turn over in my bed,
my fingers playing an airy piano,
my music reverberating, echoing
the slim long passages of the house gleaming with sound…
You play Chopin’s Nocturnes and I cannot breathe.