I found the note,
That she wrote,
In the early morning,
Of this very day.

I didn’t read it,
I just felt it,
Coursing within me,
Like fire within the views.

I closed the curtains,
For a sense of containment,
Taking a moment,
And crossed to the stool.

I sat down,
As I glanced around,
Lifting the lid,
To expose the keys.

And by placing a hand,
Via feeling instead of plan,
The piano told me,
How I should feel.