An Acrostic

November 9, 2011
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The melody flows through her mind
and escapes through her fingertips.
Keys give way as
her hands
perform a seemingly erratic march.
Suddenly notes sound foul rather than beautiful,
the harmonies tumbling and falling,
an extraordinary mess of sound.
The idyllic moment has passed, and
silence trembles. Frustration
is kindled, but fades from her mind.
Her appearance shows only determination:
The practicing will commence.

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