Literature
the keys and me
Unconsciously, my fingers move across the keys.
A thought redirects them, adds a rythm or a harmony.
The ivory, wood, and metal are now a part of me.
My music fills the room, a statement or a plea, depending on the key.
It does as it pleases, all I know is that I started on a D.
The music flows to my hand from my heart with every beat.
My mind hears the notes and responds with glee.