Pianissimo

This is another poem, inspired by a picture,  written for Magpie Tales.

 

Pianissimo

Haunted by a slant of light across the lintel,

I am left hanging now, half-heard in the stillness.

Once you were my cradle, my nightly lullaby;

but now, stealthily as a piano, you 

have become far-distant, faint, barely audible.

I had tried to ignore your dark blue undertones,

played pianissimo, which drew out my tears.

I turned every trick in my last-ditch attempts.

I soft-pedalled, I turned somersaults, I tapped

and I kicked, I changed every tune but your own.

Your notes, once sacred to me, are now muted, laced

with a whispered nuance, so I look down and 

await the final, inevitable

and most deadly silence. 

Cait O’Connor