Lady Winter’s Clavier

A Poem

Lady Winter’s Clavier

A woman, wool-white, sings at her dark keys,
And upon her chords the wind catches flight, 
Her gray clouds veil the pale-spread sky,
Like blue bonnets round once clear eyes.

And breathing free through sharp pained chill,
The notes strike sparse as like barren trees,
Color recedes with her legato’s pall,
As hammer to string, the wisps o’ green fade then fall.

I sit rapt across her bench,
Watching intent, her fingers clench
The invisible globes atop the keys
That summon the final autumnal breeze.

In trance, I tap my knee till my fingers fail,
And surrender my sighs to the icy pale.

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