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

   an 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.'