the color of freshly fallen snow
the color of midnight with no moon
A hand rests,
lightly
as a bird
then takes off
flying across the ivory,
the blackberry
the hand
the foot
coaxing out a melody
on the piano
the sweet sound
spinning hopes, dreams, disaster
in a few notes
not just a melody a story
a hundred years have passed
the hand, the foot
the circle has been completed
The life of a girl wanting true love has passed through our ears
her hopes,
her love,
disaster,
then at the last measure
a red rose was given,
and a sheet of music,
her trial,
the last note
a smile