The old musician plays a soulful tune;
his fingers floating over ivory keys
while thoughts of her, like leaves, are gently strewn
about his heart. The waning afternoon
is flooded with long distant memories.
The old musician plays a soulful tune,
recalling darkened nights; the cricket’s croon
and sitting out beneath the willow trees
while thoughts of her, like leaves, are gently strewn
mid shadows underneath the harvest moon.
And though he wrestles with increased unease,
the old musician plays a soulful tune
that leaves him dry and listless as the dune.
Despondent notes ring forth with silent pleas
while thoughts of her, like leaves, are gently strewn.
As rain clouds burst anew late afternoon,
he wraps himself against the biting breeze;
the old musician plays a soulful tune
while thoughts of her, like leaves, are gently strewn.
© 2020 Mark Vincent
Photo Source: pickpik.com