When they told me
she had died,
I went to the piano.
Mazurka
by Chopin –
in the pained
stutter of
one who doesn’t
practice much.
Again, and again,
low D to high, hit the
trill,
bass chords steady,
decrescendo leading to a…
false note.
Again.
All the while thinking,
I should have practiced more.
I should have…
I heard this and thought of you…
god that is beautiful – – that's all i have right now
Julia reminds me of Bjork. Only, not so annoyingly histrionic…
Cowards
We get to say
Those things we can't say
Out loud
We cowards
We poets
We don't say it
Bluster and
Bravado we “just wrote it that way”
Only
We mean it; can't say it
Aloud…
Cowards…
would you allow me to repost this as a guest? would you like to use your commenting name? i really like it – reminds me of my poem “biggest secret of my life”….
Of course! Bobby Ty is fine 🙂 I'd be honored to be in such good company…
Poetry by JC Snyder 
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