Shore

His music filled me with a colorless silence. So,

I dug deep, and found the chords hidden in my piano;

They were warm.

They greeted my fingers like soft shells in the sand.

I could not understand this shoreline,

This shifting thing with salty tidings;

It was like a broken music box, with the dancer going round and round.

Long after the song had stopped.

But still, like how even in the night, I would know the waves were green,

I would know the foam was white, and that the sand was just;

The dust of a yellow sun.

That had dreamed itself into the blue.

So I knew I would find you, in these black and white keys.

On the second of April on the holiday.

My fingers dug deep, and the notes were tiny treasures,

That I held up gently;

And guided to a shore that was already resurfacing.