Jazzy Piano

Daily Poetry

The fingers expertly pin the 88 keys,
forging a delicate melody.
The secrets of the machine are elusive,
as are its player,
but the soul knows.

As the air reverberates and the ears capture its hums,
troubles disappear as that instrument destroys the past and future.

Yet the fragments remain.
The tunes turn troubles palatable.
A rhythm in the body, and a muse in the spirit.