88 Keys

Esther Spurrill-Jones
Poets Unlimited
Published in
1 min readApr 19, 2019

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Photo by Geert Pieters on Unsplash

I miss the weight of keys giving way beneath my fingers,
The smooth coolness sliding on my skin.
I liked to trail my fingertips along the wooden cover:
Anticipation before I’d begin.
The sound of felted hammers striking strings,
Ringing in my ears and in my heart,
Evokes an itching yearning in my fingers
To once again create such graceful notes.

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Esther Spurrill-Jones
Poets Unlimited

Poet, lover, thinker, human. Poetry editor at Prism & Pen.