Never Learnt To Make Music


The morning tinkles into life
on silvery notes
wafting through the window
Every day I wake to birdsong
and someone playing Für Elise
the notes swelling with the energy
of the climbing sun
pulling me up
from the depths of the night

I want to turn to you
feather my fingers
on the ebony ridges
of your skin
but the implacable line
of your back
taunts my inadequacy
Once our rhythms
matched perfectly
Now we strike discordant notes
the kind that stutter
out of a disused piano

I wonder at the creation
of these pathos-filled tunes
born out of longing
or was it wrought
from the kind of heartbreak
leading to brooding afternoons
in darkened rooms

I can see myself lying here
long after you’ve left for the day
I could draw the curtains
listen to sad symphonies
But I could never write a Für Elise
or anything else
Because I never did learn
how to make music

© 2016 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved

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