Saturday, March 28, 2015

The Key


http://globe-views.com/dreams/piano.html


She floats her way through shadowed halls
as thought escapes from its confines,
an image of a younger self
so long ago she can’t recall—
absorbs once more into her mind.

Her later years have not been kind,
perception fades into a fugue—
old names and faces cast a blur
and all the memories left behind
have slipped away, eluding her.

But still she finds familiar route
to afternoon’s sweet interlude:
pale parchment hands touch ivory
and without pause or moment’s doubt
she reaches out to find the key.

A moment later song concludes—
in haste, the memory disembarks;
she fades again behind the veil…
   locked away in solitude
   this aging soul with body frail.

© Ginny Brannan 2015

Amazing how the mind works: because music is stored in a different part of the brain, someone who has dementia may still find comfort in music; the hands remember what the mind cannot. Written about a dear nonagenarian who still manages to 'tickle the ivories.'

3 comments:

  1. Ah Ginny, this is well observed and touching. Isn't music an amazing thing?

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  2. Music is engraved in our memory. This is sad but beautiful. I have seen it myself and dementia is heartbreaking.

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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.