in memory of . . .

I’ve had a few days off from the NaPoWriMo game: some for gramma time and others for work travel. The day 22 prompt immediately brought to mind a friend I lost track of long ago, an aspiring pianist who gave me a glimpse into the highs and lows of true musicianship, and her grief at losing the physical capacity to play to that standard. I tried to capture some of that fragmentation in the combined imagery and poem, but also include the poem below as the JPEG is not necessarily readable.

In Memory Of . . .
Early days was laughter —
her fingers dancing lightly and without care:
a spill of giggles in F# major
a belly-laugh in pentatonic triplets
a gurgle of Lydian pleasure.

Middle days was fear —
her fingers driving contact through skeletal pain:
in blitzkrieg counterpoint
with diminished Locrian scale
a true Neapolitan spectacle.

Final days were tears —
her fingers twitching with wordless nightmares:
a tone-dead arpeggio sinks beneath
it’s relative minor in harmonic enigma
and she finds no tonic, no promised rest.

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