A Thread of Silk


Deep in the heart of yesterday.
Where the shadows are sultry
And the air is moist,
Where the shimmer timbre of cymbal
Make up the color, the voices
And the fragments of empty conversations.

Back in an echo, stored away
In the side hall chamber,
Where hands touched,
Feet tapped and thrashed in the darkness,
And candlelight danced
In embers across lover’s eyes.

Beyond the once lived moment
Of the finest piano ever played,
Of a heart beating as purely
As one ever beat.
A fine fierce time.
A thread of silk in the fabric
Of my common cotton days.