The room was alive as I opened
the face of grandfather's clock,
wound its key, pushed the pendulum
and turned to you as time ticked quickly.
Hand-carved 19th century furniture
re-covered in mauve; Italian
tapestries share the wall with the
pointillist lady holding her parasol.
Lamplight casts a halo over your
auburn hair, as you play the deco piano
daddy gave to you, now passed down to me.
Your fingers are magical,
waving over ivory, pulling notes from
Enchanted, we laugh and applaud,
sharing keys and timeless melodies
captured by the camera's lens.
You were alive in our time,
singing simple tunes; grandchildren
squeezed next to you, following
your cues with smiles.
I replay it by heart, as I've
searched years for the video which
vanished that night.
Susan Fridkin (from "One Woman" available in Barnes
and Noble bookstores)
If you like the Web Page, please sign my Guestbook!:
Return To Fridkin Poetry Index:
Return to Featured Poets Index:
Return To Front Page: