Silent Notes. Photo by Lera Auerbah
When pianos are not played,
they become very sad,
they collect silent notes.
Unplayed music floats –
invisible dust of overtones.
The dead are waiting expectantly:
so many keys – 88 – all untouched.
The day of silent music
sheds the signature of uncaptured Time.
(“What are you practicing now?”
my mother asks me quietly.
Her eyebrows raised. I shrug.)
from the archive; first posted 10/15/21