Memory

A POEM
BY LUKE EDWARD WORSTER

 

The man lifts the lid tentatively,
Exposing dusty keys.
Ebony and ivory
Glimmer through the gloom.
He sits down slowly,
Half remembered chords
Struggling to be heard.
He raises his hands,
And hesitantly, softly,
Starts to play,
Delicately picking out the notes.
A half-smile accompanies
Gently falling tears.
Long forgotten memories
Rise to the surface.

Leave a Reply