Notes weep through air
As dusk falls soft and fair
Windows high and bright
Bring golden glimmer of city light
We sit still, edge of frame
Engrossed by succulent tune
Fingers on black and white tame
The keys of eternal stories old.
They play melody of ages
Cross time, turn of this century
What has been shall rise anew
Whispers through air, chaos grows louder
Above still and silent trees of town
Ask nothing while they patiently wait
Droplets from the inbound storm.