The piano sits in the empty house.
Dust settling on her sheen of black.
The stool stood beneath her;
Waiting for warmth.
Warmth that would relive the music.
 
 
Keys sound from within.
The hammer waits for the string;
Two lovers waiting to re-unite.
The blacks and whites continue their separation;
A continuity of apartheid.
 
 
My fingers release the distance.
Slim and long...
Waltzing on the keys.
Apartheid is broken!

Hammer and string give birth to music.
 
 
Music which fills the empty house,
Like air capturing space.
Every note echoes and spins
Drifts into oblivion.
 
 
Taking music along…