Für - broken – Elise

Inviting ivory whites.

Resting flat and sharp-edged between the black.


In the concert’s hall:

Bach? Debussy? Satie?

Your desires and melodies a mystery to me.


But you played – this I do know, though

You stopped.


Strayed away from the keys,

Career more a boon to Baby Boomer demands.

For a woman? You could choose:


A nurse, a care worker – a mother.

All of the above.


And with graft and toil,

One day a manager – more demands,

Of people, of homes – more distance sustaining Bösendorfer melancholy.


You never spoke of this past,

It is only now, by speculating, I ask:


Why, with your daily bottle of red wine,

Glass sat piano-side,

All that could be relived of nascent nostalgia was


A minor love-note embedded by

Beethoven, for his Elise.


Played by you, our lonely piano out-of-tune,

Für Elise – broken,

Fractured and stuttered by the alcohol, expectation, and circumstance that


Broke you.

◄ Shortsighted


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Tommy Carroll

Sun 24th Oct 2021 14:31

... Or fur Therese Steph🤔🙂
Either one your verse has me playing music on a different channel while reading your verse... have I already said that? 🤔
((see what you've started))

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