The Keys Hold the Key
Lynn’s metronome ticks an erratic beat
Back and forth, then – (gasp)
Echoing crescendos fill the air,
I wonder how it came to this.
Whiffs of bleach tease the musty room
My stinging eyes rebel against the smell,
Could these tears reflect morbidity?
A quick span, my head skirts the obvious
Back and forth, then – (gasp), then Oh, my God!
Luminous rays paint golden stripes
Across her upright hogging space
Like a sunny jailbird on the loose.
The drop of red painting middle C
A haunting omen of that fateful day.