Quiet

This house, once
so full of life
is quiet now

The music is missing

The clank, clank, clank
of keys is gone

The sound of
chopsticks performed
on repeat no longer
fills the room

Now, the room is filled
with a fine layer
of dust

Strings stretched
out of shape

Cushions harden
from lack of use

Keys stick
In place

A lonely piano
sits against the wall

The days of use
are long gone

Famous composers
once visited
our house

The s t a c c a t o
of our heart beat matched
the rhythm of our house

thump

Amazing music
once transported us
to other lands

Now
the keys stick

And the rhythm of the house is
QUIET

quiet

Beethoven doesn’t visit –
this house –
anymore