She sat young and emotional

in front of the piano

her grandmother's baby grand

with Mason Hamlin scripted in golden letters

etched across the smooth wood.

She remembers like it was yesterday...........

Her shoes felt slippery on her feet

she thought of the smoothness of the satin soft feeling

cloth when her fingers slipped them over her stockinged

toes, earlier......

she was distracted.

The cool air breezed through the open doors of latticed glass leading into

the back tiled garden with memories floating through her mind of the magnificent olive tree,

must have been over 100 years old...

The birds songs curled her curiosity....

she was lonely sitting there, twisting her feet on the piano pedals,

not sure which one was for what as her feet danced back and forth

teasing the notes her fingers struck on the soft ivory keys with soft and long depths of sound

each one with own peculiarities....

She kept straying through imagery of antique mirrors surrounding her, sounds

echoing up into high ceilings where notes from her fingers seemed to just float into the rafters and stay,

as long as her feet touched the pedals in a meaningful way.

Her mother was upstairs, she could hear her movements....now she

felt sad....she seemed to play sad melodies, Pavanne..was one

that moved her. In her head she imagined her mother in a fit listening as she seemed to play the

mournful notes over and over.....

Ray Charles 'Born to Lose' was one song and the 'Songs of the Auverne', Paul Bley's touch,

so moved her young childhood.....

She imagined mountaintops of a magical place somewhere faraway, the airs fresh breezes,

the spring light in her mind, her hands dancing and free,

her pretty shoes responded when suddenly the wind interrupted her reverie

as the music pages

began to blow and get ruffled,

slipping off their narrow shelf above her hands, faster than she could grab them...

losing her peace

and creating a silence, unknown before......