Earlier this month, the class teacher gave children 30 minutes to write a few lines about their response to a short animated film based on a husband playing the piano after the death of his wife.
Kye, 10, my grandson, wrote the following poem. The teacher said the poem brought tears to her eyes. She asked Kye to read the poem to the class.
I started uploading to my blog this item in The Barrel coffee shop, Totnes, where I spend many hours. A young man walked into the coffee shop. He asked me if he could play the piano seated behind me. We checked with Chris, the manager. “Yes, of course,” he said. We live in a world of countless expressions of synchronicity.
THE PIANO
I sit
Abandoned
My crippled fingers
Gently playing
The piano
Bringing back thoughts and memories
A ghostly kiss awakening
My dead soul inside
My emotions too much for my will
Her kiss fading and fading
As well as her
I can still hear the echoes of her voice
Remembering the life of my long lost friends
Being watched and followed by the shadows
There are so many generations past
I am a lucky person to still live
Reality and dreams are very different.
Kye
…
