Thursday, June 30, 2005


as if a love had long been lost,
passion flickers under her breath.
she never played the violin for him,
he never asked her to,
and the regret surfaces.
now she remembers playing;
her fingers delicate on the strings,
fine and quick to the note.
the bridge collapses and strings snap
until the fade completes.
she thinks of picking it up again.